


Tease

by ElvenSorceress



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Food Kink, Food Sex, Improper Feelings Toward Cornbread, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, not quite het sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenSorceress/pseuds/ElvenSorceress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Roger and April are happily in love and Mark and Maureen are mostly together, Mark lusts for Roger and Maureen uses it to her advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tease

“Oh, yeah. Just like that. Spread for me, baby. I love watching you crumble. Mmm, yeah, just hold still and I’ll pour this on you...”

Mark walked in the room and immediately stopped where he was. “Roger?” he asked, nervously. “What the hell are you doing?”

Roger looked up from his plate, a small cup of melted butter in his hand. “Having lunch. What the hell does it look like?”

“It was what it sounded like,” Mark said, taking the seat across table. “I think ‘having’ was the key word there.”

Roger faked a shocked expression then haughtily turned back to his food. “You have a dirty mind.”

Mark pointed to himself. “I have a dirty mind? Who’s trying to molest his cornbread before he eats it?”

“I’m not molesting it. I’m showing it the proper love it deserves.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Mark looked down at the table, then back up at Roger. “It’s just cornbread.”

Roger scoffed. “It’s the best cornbread in the world. April and Collins made it this morning.” He picked up a chunk of yellow bread and put it in his mouth, moaning contentedly. 

Mark placed an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist as he watched Roger eat. “You’re kind of obscenely...obscene.”

Roger licked his lips. “You’re just jealous.” 

“Of what?”

“That I haven’t spread you out on this table and smothered you in butter.”

“I...what... that’s... I am not!”

Laughing, Roger brushed crumbs from his hands. He reached across the table and took a hold of the scarf around Mark’s neck, winding the end around his hand, then he leaned over and spoke in a deep whisper. “Are you telling me, that if I swept everything off this table, stripped you down and threw you on it,” he quirked an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t beg me for it?”

Mark knew a deep blush crept over his cheeks. He could feel heat slowly flood and grow inside him. He watched the arrogant gleam flicker in Roger’s eyes; he was the rock star everyone- even straight-laced, little Jewish boys - wanted. 

All right. Mark consented. He could play Roger’s game. “No. I wouldn’t,” he asserted and grasped the wrist entangled in his scarf, standing and walking to the other side of the table. He pulled Roger from his seat and backed him against the wall. 

Roger drew in a sharp breath when Mark pressed their bodies together. The cocky smirk vanished. 

Mark spoke softly, warm breath caressing Roger’s face, “I’d make you beg.”

After several shallow breaths, a soft smile touched Roger’s lips, one that was neither a smirk nor predatory. 

Mark only had time to smile back before the loft door crashed open and Maureen and April walked in. Mark immediately gathered the brunette in his arms and steered her towards their room.

Roger could hear her surprised giggles all the way in the kitchen. 

April gave him a slightly confused look. 

He shook his head and pointed to the bag in her hands, “What did you find?”

“It’s just some groceries we got.” She looked in the bag, “Fruits, veggies and cheese and...”

“Do you know what I discovered?” he interrupted. 

She tipped her head and started putting the food away. “What?”

“Mark is a fucking tease.”

April glanced toward the closed door and laughed. “Did you hit on him and get shot down?”

“No,” Roger grumped. 

She folded the empty bag and set it on the table next to Roger’s lunch. “I don’t believe you,” she smiled and leaned over to kiss him. He grasped her shoulders, pulling her closer and attempting to deepen the kiss. She broke away and giggled. “Babe, I’d love to stay and play, but I really can’t.” Kissing him once more, she walked to the door. “See you tomorrow.” 

Roger slumped in his seat once she closed the door. He started to finish his meal but the noise from Mark’s bedroom kept getting louder. Grumbling, he grabbed his jacket and decided to go for a walk, slamming the door on the way out.


	2. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark is a little worked up after the cornbread incident with Roger

  
  
Maureen knew the minute she and April walked through the door that something had happened.   
  
However, she didn’t have time to figure out what it was.  She hadn’t even taken two steps into the loft before Mark’s arms were around her. His pale face was flushed, his eyes were dark and his breathing was definitely faster than normal. Maureen grinned brightly.   
  
She loved when Mark was this needy. Usually, she’d have to tease him for hours before he wanted her so badly that he’d forget about everything else. Forget about being sweet, slightly prudish little Mark.   
  
She giggled as he urged her toward their room and pushed her on the bed.   
  
He shut the door and unzipped his sweatshirt. “Take off your clothes.”  
  
She quirked an eyebrow. “Tell me what happened.”  
  
“Nothing. Roger just...”  
  
“Got you all hot?” Maureen grinned and stood in front of him. Her fingers found their way under his shirt, lightly scratching his sides. “Tell me what happened.”  
  
His hands went to her jeans and worked to unbutton them. “He just, asked me if...”  
  
“Yeah?” she pulled his shirt off, but left the scarf around his neck.  
  
“If I’d beg for him if he stripped me and threw me down on the table.”  
  
She giggled and stepped out of her jeans. “What was your answer?”  
  
“I told him I’d make him beg.”  
  
Intrigued, she breathed, “Really?”   
  
He nodded and held her waist tightly. She could see him nearly shaking with arousal. Thinking, she hummed and then pulled off the rest of her clothes before sitting naked on their bed. “Show me how you’d make him beg.”  
  
Slowly, he walked towards her. “What? How?”  
  
She grabbed him by his jeans and unfastened them. “Do to me what you want to do to him.”  
  
He blushed a deep red.   
  
“Come on, Mark.” She tugged on the ends of his scarf, bringing him to his knees in front of her. She wrapped her legs around his bare torso and pulled him against her. Leaning closer, she traced her tongue over his lips. “Show me how much you want to make him beg for you.”  
  
Mark groaned and kissed her deeply before standing and tearing off his jeans and underwear. She moved up the bed and let him pounce on her, one of his legs between hers. Holding the scarf, she pulled him down for another kiss, rubbing herself against his thigh. “Would you kiss him?” she asked as he moved his mouth to her neck.  
  
He licked her throat then lightly pressed open-mouth kisses against it. “Yes.”  
  
“Like that?”  
  
“No.”  
  
She scratched down his back. “How?”  
  
He sucked a patch of skin into his mouth, grazing his teeth over the pulse in her neck.   
  
Maureen moaned and tangled her fingers in his hair.   
  
His hand found one of her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. Arching into him, she moved her thigh between his legs. “What else would you do to him?”  
  
His head moved lower and he sucked her right nipple into his mouth, his fingers rubbed her left one. She moaned again, when she felt his teeth on her.   
  
Switching, he mimicked his action on her other breast before licking down her stomach. She was breathing hard, enjoying the feel of the cool air on her wet skin. He glanced at her before burying his face between her legs.   
  
Grinning, she cried out when she felt his tongue flick over her clit. “MmmmMark,” she crooned.  
  
After a minute or two of writhing from his attention, she pulled on his shoulders and brought him up for a kiss. She stroked his forehead when he broke away. “Would you do that to him?”  
  
He panted, “No.”  
  
She snorted a laugh, “I bet you would.”   
  
“I can’t exactly do _that_ to him.”  
  
“No, but you can definitely use that talented tongue of yours on him.”  
  
Uncertainly, Mark insisted, “I...I wouldn’t.”  
  
“You so would,” she rolled her hips. “You’d push between his legs and lick him and suck his cock. And he’d gasp because he wouldn’t be able to breathe. And his hand would clutch at your head,” she demonstrated by grasping his short hair. “And he’d whimper your name, begging to have more of you.”  
  
He hung on every word, but asked, “How do you know I’d want that?”  
  
“The little leprechaun on my shoulder told me,” she smirked. “Come on, Mark, I’ve barely touched you and you’re still ready to come from just the thought of him… wanting you.”   
  
“Am not.”  
  
Rolling her eyes, she reached between them and stroked him.   
  
He shuddered and nearly collapsed, “Ok, maybe I am. A little bit.”  
  
She snickered and dug a condom out of his pillowcase, offering it to him. “Would you fuck him?”  
  
He took it from her and started to open it.   
  
She stole it back. “Would you?”  
  
“Yeah, I’d fuck him.”  
  
Smiling, Maureen rolled the condom on him, squeezing a little more than was probably necessary. “Show me how.”  
  
Mark slowly guided himself between her legs and gently slid into her. She waited for a moment as he took a few calming breaths, then carefully started to move inside her. He pressed a few soft kisses to her cheeks and lips.   
  
“Mark?”  
  
He wheezed from her neck, “Yeah?”  
  
“Are you thinking of him?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Confused, he stopped and looked at her. “Because I’m... making love to you.”  
  
She rolled her eyes, “Mark, honey, baby. You’re adorable and I love you, but I want you to think of him. It’s ok, I promise. It’s a fantasy and it makes you hot.” She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him deeper. “I like it when you’re hot.”  
  
He shivered.   
  
Smiling, she thrust against him. “Now, what was it he said to you? I’ll make you beg for me?”  
  
“’If I stripped you and threw you on this table, would you beg for me.’”  
  
“Mmm. Well, would you?”  
  
“No,” he breathed and started pushing inside her again. “I’d make him beg. I’d pin him down and grind against him.”  
  
Maureen moaned. “Good. What else?”  
  
“I’d kiss him and lick his mouth. And I’d touch him. And tease him.” Mark moved faster; Maureen held to him to keep them pressed together. “I’d make him want me.”  
  
Maureen closed her eyes and nodded, knowing how that would feel. She was about ready to start crying out. “Would you give him what he wanted?”  
  
Mark grabbed one of her legs and held it over his shoulder. “Yes.” He moved harder into her and she clawed at his back. “He’d cling to me and make those little breathy whimpers like he does when he’s close to coming.”  
  
Maureen opened her eyes and looked at Mark. He’d obviously paid close attention to his ...fantasy. Grinning, she thought it was definitely something to save for later conversation.   
  
Mark’s face contorted and he gasped for breath. “And he’d hold my lower back with one hand and my head with the other.”  
  
Maureen obediently moved her hands there, loving how he felt inside her. It had never been this good, even after he lost his protective aversion to using his scarf.   
  
“And he’d kiss me. And I’d fuck him.” He thrusted faster, speaking only when he had enough breath to spare. “Until the only thing he could remember was my name, because he’d be chanting it over and over, begging me.”  
  
Maureen nodded. “Mark,” she gasped, lifting her hips toward him. He started hitting that spot inside her. She wailed, “Mark!”   
  
She was vaguely aware of the loft door slamming closed as tension built in her. She held tightly, desperate for just a little more. “Would you call his name?”  
  
Mark struggled for breath, but settled for nodding since he was too close to shattering.  
  
“No, now. Would you?”  
  
Closing his eyes, Mark kept moving.   
  
She deepened her voice a little and rasped, “Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck me, Mark.”  
  
He shuddered and clutched at her, crying Roger’s name.   
  
Maureen smiled as she shook with her own orgasm.   
  
They lay together as their breathing returned to normal. Maureen purred and stroked Mark’s back. “We should do that again, sometime.”  
  
Sighing, Mark asked, “You liked it?”  
  
“Best it’s ever been.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah, the idea of two hot guys going at it... that’s good stuff.”  
  
Mark blushed red again and buried his face in her hair.   
  
Maureen smiled proudly.


	3. Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark has managed not to think of SexwithRoger for a while now. After a certain incident, that all changes.

  
  
It was an accident.   
  
It was just something that happened, especially with so many people living together.   
  
It wasn’t something intentional. It wasn’t something Mark meant to walk in on. It wasn’t something he kept thinking about. Not at all.   
  
Except Mark was a terrible liar.   
  
Ever since Maureen had encouraged and indulged his fantasy, he’d been able to keep the thoughts of Roger to a minimum. He’d even managed to go two weeks without any sexual thoughts involving his rock star roommate.   
  
Ok, one. But no one was counting.   
  
And then Mark just had to come home early one night. And had to see if Roger wanted to get some dinner. And had to be frozen in Roger’s doorway the second he peered inside.   
  
Roger’s naked, glistening back was the first thing he saw. He was moving, _thrusting_ into the woman lying beneath him. Strong, feminine hands gripped at Roger’s muscles and slid down his spine, holding his lower back just above a blanket.   
  
Mark immediately felt overheated and knew he should have looked away. He should have left and forgotten about it.  
  
Of course, that was far from what happened.  
  
His eyes trailed up the two bodies moving together and he saw waves of red hair spread out over the pillows. April’s face was turned to the side, her eyes closed and her mouth open, letting out breathy gasps. Roger’s face was buried in her neck.  
  
A rush of dizziness swept over Mark from all the blood no longer flowing to his brain.   
  
He watched Roger move with what looked like slow, deep thrusts. April lifted her hips to meet them, moaning and arching her back.   
  
Mark forgot how to breathe. He could easily imagine how good she must feel, being in Roger’s arms.  
  
Roger lifted his head and kissed her cheek. She smiled and turned her head towards him, meeting his lips in a long, wet kiss.  
  
Mark had seen them kiss thousands of times, but it was never quite like that. This time it was needy and passionate, their lips clinging together even after they’d pulled away. Mark could almost feel heated breath on his mouth, like the kind Roger and April were sharing. He had to resist the urge to rub himself through his jeans.   
  
April opened her mouth and licked Roger’s lower lip. He responded with a groan and kissed her possessively, quickening his pace.   
  
Mark had to stifle his own gasp.   
  
Moaning, she breathed, “Roger,” drawing out the ‘ah.’ He met her eyes and touched their noses together, panting her name. Kissing him again, she raised her legs and wrapped them around his hips, causing the blanket to fall away.   
  
Mark stared for a moment then immediately pressed the growing bulge in his pants. Roger’s naked, muscled back was enough; add hot, steamy, mid-coital and perfect **exposed** ass to it and Mark didn’t stand a chance.   
  
Roger moved faster, chanting April’s name and slipping a hand into her hair to cradle her head. She cried out and clutched at his ass, pulling him closer.   
  
Mark whimpered and loosened his pants in order to slide a hand under his clothes. He listened to Roger’s breathy gasps, watching his muscles ripple.   
  
April looked up into Roger’s eyes. They both stared, unblinking, thrusting against each other.   
  
Mark felt his heartbeat pounding through his body. He shouldn’t be doing this. He _really_ shouldn’t be doing this. But he couldn’t look away any more than Roger and April could.   
  
She was the first to break, twisting and shuddering in Roger’s arms. Roger followed, his fingers clenched in her hair as he held her tightly.   
  
Mark stroked himself, watching as Roger collapsed in April’s arms, resting his head on her shoulder. She caressed his hair with one hand and down his back with the other, tugging the blanket back over them. His eyes closed and she pressed a kiss to his forehead before she looked over and gave Mark a smile.   
  
He froze. And stood there only long enough to see April turn back to Roger before he darted across the loft to his room.   
  
If his heart hadn’t already been racing, it definitely would be now.   
  
Nervously, he crawled onto his bed and turned away from the door. He closed his eyes and tried to forget.   
  
There was no naked Roger. No Roger during sex. No blood that kept throbbing between Mark’s legs. And especially no April looking so satisfied and blissful that she didn’t even care that she’d been seen.   
  
Seen having sex with Roger.  
  
Sex. And Roger.   
  
Sex _with_ Roger.   
  
It was the only thing Mark could keep in his head. He groaned and curled onto his side. His hand wandered back under his open jeans and underwear, grasping himself firmly.   
  
Before, Mark could have imagined that Roger wasn’t as skilled as he claimed. Mark could think Roger was really the detached and self-centered rock star he acted like. Inattentive and unfocused and boring – except it was obvious now that none of those things were true.   
  
The way Roger held April and stared at April and fucked April...  
  
Mark shuddered and twitched almost painfully in his hand. It was something he’d never thought of before. It was stupid, really. Of course it happened. Roger was a man. He had a dick. He’d had hundreds of women. He’d been inside them. Been inside April. Mark had seen him inside April.   
  
He’d seen how much she loved it.   
  
Mark spit on his hand and stroked himself faster. And wondered. What did April feel? Being taken and kissed and held by Roger...  
  
Spots appeared behind Mark’s eyelids. He tensed and trembled and felt heat radiate off his body.   
  
He’d been in Roger’s arms. He’d been hugged and tackled and kissed on his forehead. He knew what it was like to be Roger’s center of attention. If he just tweaked his memories a little... feeling those arms, that body...  
  
Mark came, crying out into his pillow.   
  
When he became aware of his surroundings, he noticed strong, slender arms around him and a soft body pressed against his back.   
  
Maureen stroked his hair. “Pookie,” she sang. “Were you having fun without me?”  
  
Mark mumbled into his arm.   
  
“Really,” Maureen answered as if she could interpret. “You should wait for me next time so I can watch.”  
  
Mark’s eyes widened. He lifted his head, “What?”  
  
She punctuated each word, “You should wait for me so I can watch.”  
  
“Why would you want to?”  
  
Rolling her eyes, she pulled his shoulder and pushed him on his back, climbing onto his hips. “Because you’re sexy,” she whispered as she held him down and bent over him. “I like watching you come.”  
  
He shivered beneath her.  
  
She wriggled a little lower. “What were you thinking about?”  
  
“Nothing,” Mark swallowed, his face feeling hot. “I mean, you. I was thinking about you.”  
  
“Baby, seriously,” Maureen laughed. “Were you thinking of him?” she purred, hands wandering over his stomach, tracing circles lower and lower  
  
Mark whimpered, still over sensitized. “Maybe.”  
  
“What were you thinking?”  
  
Her touch made him harden again. “I thought of him...”  
  
“Yes?” Maureen asked, pulling off Mark’s jeans.  
  
He shivered when his lower half was naked. “Him... taking me,” he whispered.   
  
Maureen looked surprised and stopped. “Well, that’s something new,” she giggled, grabbing his wrists and pinning them on either side of his head. “You know what that would mean? Being taken by him?” she asked with dark, seductive eyes. Releasing him for a moment, she grabbed the bottle of lube they always kept by their bed. Coating her hands, she encouraged Mark open his thighs and lift his legs.   
  
She wrapped both hands around his growing erection, making him cry out her name. “No, Roger,” she insisted, slowly drawing her hands toward herself, closer to where he wanted. Gently, she stroked a slick finger over his opening.   
  
He gasped and cried out, “Fuck!”  
  
She laughed, “That’s closer.” Carefully working him open, she used her other hand to fondle and stroke him. “He’d love you like this, spread out for him, crying for him. Demanding to be fucked.” He arched as she slowly twisted a finger inside him. “You’d be such a bossy bottom,” she smirked, moving her finger in and out of him as she searched for the right spot. “You’d claw at him and cling to him and wouldn’t let him go until you both shot all over each other.”  
  
Crooking her finger, she brushed against his prostate. Mark spasmed and clenched the blanket on either side of him. “Maureen?” he raised his head, looking at her with wide eyes. “How the hell do you know how to do that?”  
  
“I rule the world, didn’t you know?”  
  
He whimpered and threw his head back on the bed. She gently added another finger and moved faster, fingertips rubbing _that spot_.   
  
Writhing and gasping for air, Mark crooned, “Please!”  
  
“Touch yourself,” she breathed. Obeying without a thought, Mark’s hands reached down. “He’d love to watch you. It’d make him hard seeing how turned on you are. He couldn’t resist having you. And he could make you feel like this.” Her eyes flashed deviously, “With his cock inside you. Hitting you here.”  
  
Mark closed his eyes, feeling her fingers, his hands, the slick lube, the heat pouring off him and thinking, remembering how Roger made love. He absolutely shattered when he came a second time, there was so much sensation flowing through him.   
  
He lay trembling even after the spasms stopped. Maureen cleaned him up and stretched out on top of him, humming against his neck. “You ok, Pookie?”   
  
Nodding, he wrapped his arms around her. “Maureen,” he whispered slowly. “Why do you do it?”  
  
“Mmm, because you like it.”  
  
“It doesn’t bother you? Or worry you?”  
  
She grinned. “No. You’re fun like this.” Pausing, she thought. “Does it bother you?”  
  
He shrugged.   
  
“Oh!” She lifted her head and looked at him. “Next time, we’ll have to think up a steamy threesome. How would you like to be the filling of a Maureen-Roger sandwich?”  
  
Mark stared at her. And swallowed as he began to imagine having Maureen as Roger had him. “I think... that would be,” he gulped. “Good. Very good.”  
  
Maureen settled back on him, beaming with her brilliant idea.  
  
Well, that was it, Mark thought. It was going to be a long time before he could stop thinking of SexwithRoger again. Sighing, he held Maureen and figured it wasn’t such a bad thing.


	4. Fixation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Roger discuss their dreams.

The loft was quiet when Mark came home. Quiet was seldom a good thing when you had roommates like Mark’s.   
  
But it didn’t seem like any of them were around at the moment, save Roger who was sitting cross-legged **on** the metal table, holding a bowl of oatmeal in his lap.  
  
Mark walked passed him and rummaged for a bagel or some toast. “What are you doing up there?”  
  
Roger looked over at him like he was crazy, since he was doing the most reasonable thing in the world. “We’ve been through this before, see?” he held up his bowl. “There’s this thing I like to do called eating.”  
  
“You’re such a smartass,” Mark rolled his eyes, but smiled affectionately, biting into a muffin he’d found.   
  
Roger smirked. “You just like thinking about my ass.”  
  
Tensing, Mark had to work hard to swallow his food. “What? Where the hell did that come from?”  
  
“Do you not?” Roger rolled awkwardly onto his hip, looking over his shoulder. “I would. It’s hot.”  
  
Mark laughed, feeling his uneasiness fade away. “You’re a dork. A conceited one, too.”  
  
Roger gave an exaggerated pout as he sat normally and patted the table in front of him.   
  
Obliging, Mark perched on the side of the table, letting his legs hang over the side. He kept eating his muffin, but turned his head to look at Roger. “What did you want?”  
  
Roger shrugged and took a bite of his oatmeal, sucking on the spoon. “Company.”  
  
Mark had to smile. He didn’t say anything, but kept watching Roger as he licked the gooey cereal off the utensil. Mark felt familiar heat flush his cheeks and decided it was a very good idea to _not_ stare at Roger. Especially while sitting so close to him.  
  
Focusing on his muffin, Mark picked apart chunks before putting them in his mouth, wanting something to keep his hands busy.  
  
Bored with the silence, Roger suddenly asked, “Do you ever remember your dreams?”  
  
Mark risked looking at his roommate and raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes. Why?”  
  
“I was just thinking about it,” he explained and held his spoon in his mouth for what Mark thought was an agonizing moment before continuing. “I think I dreamed about you last night.”  
  
Doing his best to not choke on muffin and act casual, Mark asked, “Really? What about me?”  
  
Roger concentrated, again holding the spoon in his mouth.   
  
Mark looked down at Roger’s knee almost touching Mark’s thigh.   
  
“You were filming me for something. But someone took away your camera and tried to smash it. And you would have kicked their ass,” he grinned at Mark. “But I think you were sick or something. So, I did it. I rescued your camera,” Roger finished, proudly, flourishing his spoon.  
  
Mark bit his lip, filling with a different warmth. “You remember that? I thought you were too wasted to even walk home.”  
  
“That was real?”  
  
“Yeah, you were drunk off your ass,” Mark explained. “But that was the first time after we met that you weren’t an ass to me. You saved my camera. And said only you could pick on me.”  
  
Laughing, Roger playfully ruffled Mark’s short hair.   
  
Mark tingled from his touch and turned back to his dinner.   
  
“So, I was drunk off my ass?”  
  
“Yeah. Really drunk. I had to practically carry you back here.”  
  
Roger smirked, hopping down from the table. “You just like thinking about my ass.” He shook his backside for emphasis.  
  
“Conceited,” Mark insisted as Roger walked to his room. “Hopelessly conceited.”  
  
“Would you blame me?” Roger asked innocently before he shut his door.  
  
Once he had left, Mark finished his muffin and went to his own room. He flopped down on the bed and kicked off his shoes. So, Roger dreams about me, he thought. And likes sucking on spoons. It was definitely something to keep in mind. Mark closed his eyes and sighed. It was just a fantasy. Just a weird fantasy.   
  
He heard a voice from across his room. “Do you dream about me?”  
  
Mark opened his eyes and looked toward the doorway, “What?”  
  
Closing the door and coming to sit on Mark’s bed, Roger asked again, “Have you ever dreamed about me?”  
  
Mark tried to ignore the fact that Roger was on his bed. He shrugged. “Maybe.”  
  
Roger cocked his head, “What did you dream?”  
  
“I don’t really remember.”  
  
“You lie,” Roger smirked. “I bet you dreamed about my ass.”  
  
Swallowing, Mark propped himself up onto his elbows and insisted, “I did not.” Mark suddenly felt a warm hand on his leg that was slowly sliding up his shin. He quickly met Roger’s green eyes.   
  
“Do you ever think about this?” Roger whispered with his hand now on Mark’s thigh.  
  
Mark could feel his heartbeat rushing, pulsing through him. “Maybe.”  
  
The callused hand slid under Mark’s sweater and rubbed over his bare stomach. Roger moved closer, leaning over Mark. “I think that’s yes, not a maybe.”  
  
Mark bit his lip again, staring Roger down. The hand moved a little lower, brushing over soft blond fuzz. Jolts of sharp heat shot through Mark.   
  
Balancing himself with one hand, Mark used the other to grip Roger’s head and pull them close together so their noses almost touched. “Have _you_ dreamed about this?”  
  
Roger’s deep eyes stared into him as he quirked a smile. His hand opened Mark’s jeans, sending more jolts through the blond as fingers brushed against hardening flesh.  
  
Quivering, Mark forcefully pulled Roger to him and mashed their lips together. He was met with a sweet, wet tongue and felt hands pull his jeans and shorts down.   
  
Roger pushed Mark back on the bed, hands rubbing all over his belly.   
  
Mark had to gasp for breath. Roger was touching him. _Roger_ was touching him. He felt lips on his skin, trailing lower than the hands had. Then those callused hands pushed his legs apart and warm breath flowed over his inner thighs. He shook and pleaded, wanting this so much.  
  
Mark violently cried out when Roger swallowed him. He reached for the bleached head, or the forest green sweatshirt or anything in the vicinity. Mark didn’t care as long as it was Roger.   
  
He felt Roger’s hand grip his and relaxed into the mattress.  
  
He was being sucked into Roger’s mouth, feeling Roger’s tongue wash over him, watching Roger’s head move up and down on him. He didn’t care that any one of his other roommates could walk in at any moment. It didn’t matter- he had Roger. Roger’s mouth was on him, making him feel so incredibly... incredible.   
  
Mark could barely think. He could only feel and feel and feel. Until Roger’s other hand squeezed around him while Roger’s wet mouth sucked and Mark exploded in more ways than one.   
  
He opened his eyes suddenly when he felt the bed move.   
  
“Pookie? You ok?”  
  
Mark immediately sat up and looked around. It was dark. Very dark. And he was clothed. And there was no Roger in sight. “Maureen?”  
  
“Hi, baby. Sorry to wake you. I tried to sneak in.”  
  
Mark groaned and fell back on the bed. “If anyone ever asks again, _ever!_ If I remember my dreams,” Mark nearly growled. “The answer is _no_!”  
  
Maureen raised her eyebrow.  
  
“Now and forever! NO,” Mark insisted.  
  
Maureen bit her lip and tried not to giggle.  
  



	5. Frozen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can you generate heat?

  
It was snowing when Maureen walked home. She had to keep shaking icy clumps from her hair and cursed the fact that she hadn’t brought another jacket. Opening the door to the strangely quiet loft, she found Mark curled on the couch with a blanket and his screenplay notebook.   
  
He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Maureen.”  
  
She brushed snowflakes from her hair and clothes. “Hey, baby. What are you doing?”  
  
“Just trying to not freeze.”  
  
Glancing around the loft, she asked, “Where are the rest of the guys?”  
  
“Roger’s with his band. Benny is I think he said working, but it seemed more like he had a hot date.”  
  
Maureen giggled and sauntered over to him. “And Collins?”  
  
His eyes trailed over her body, noting the melting snow that beaded on her bare neckline and the skintight black pants she liked to wear to work- it got her more tips. “Collins had some teaching conference for the whole weekend.”  
  
She took the notebook from his hands and set it on the table. Prying the edges of the blanket from his hands, she straddled his lap and pulled the blanket around both of them. “So, it’s just us?” she inquired, touching her nose to his.  
  
Mark took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah. Just us.”  
  
“Good,” she grinned and kissed him. Mark’s hands rubbed over her back and she instantly felt warmer. Tilting her head, she bared her neck and let him lick the droplets from her collarbone. She stroked his hair and purred as he pulled her closer. Delicately, she unwound the scarf from his neck.   
  
“Hey,” he protested against her throat. “I’m cold.”  
  
She took his hands and tied them together. “I’ll keep you warm.” She could almost feel his heartbeat race. He let her lift his hands behind his head as she wriggled against him and dove for his neck. Moaning, he arched up into her.   
  
Roger chose that moment to walk through the door. “Hey Maureen,” he called. “There’s some crazy chick downstairs who... whoa!”   
  
Mark and Maureen both looked towards him.  
  
“Ok, what’s the rule about bondage in the living room?” Roger stood with his arms crossed.  
  
“It should always be practiced? In the living room?” Maureen smirked and ground against Mark, making him whimper.  
  
“NO bondage in the living room,” Roger clarified. “Unless you were planning to include me. In that case, I might overlook the rule.”  
  
Maureen resisted the urge to giggle at Mark’s expression and asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be at rehearsal?”  
  
“We’re done for the day.”  
  
“Don’t you have a girlfriend to bother?”  
  
“She left for the weekend. Visiting family or some other holiday bullshit.”  
  
“Which you’re not bitter about at all,” she laughed and looked down at Mark who still looked slightly terrified. “So, who’s this ‘crazy chick’ and why did you leave her downstairs?”  
  
Roger set down his guitar case. “You think I was going to let her up here?”  
  
Maureen gave Mark a wicked smiled and kissed his nose. “Fine,” she shimmied off her boyfriend and stood. “I’ll go talk to the crazy chick. You,” she told Roger. “Make sure he,” she pointed to Mark. “Stays right there.”  
  
Roger grinned. “I can do that.”  
  
She bounded to the door. “Be right back, Pookie!”  
  
Mark finally broke his trance and called after her, “Maureen! That’s just mean!”  
  
Roger settled on him in Maureen’s place, his legs on either side of Mark’s hips, his hands slid over Mark’s arms. “Why’s it mean?”  
  
Mark had to suck in a deep breath. So close. Roger... so close. And Mark was, well Mark’s girlfriend had gotten him... and now Roger was sitting on him, breathing on him. “It just is. Mean.”  
  
“I promise I’ll be nice.” Roger wriggled closer like Maureen had. “Very nice,” he smirked arrogantly, knowing exactly how aroused Mark was.   
  
Mark glared at him. He could smell Roger’s leather jacket, feel his wet clothes and could practically taste the alcohol and cigarettes on his lips.   
  
Roger shifted his position again, smiling. “That really was mean of her. Leaving you like this.”  
  
“Yeah. With you.”  
  
“What’s wrong with me?” Roger pouted. “Ok, so I’m not a chick, but that just means I _really_ know how to work an erection.”  
  
Mark sighed irritably. He used the leverage he had with his legs to push Roger off him. They landed on the floor and Mark pinned him to the ground. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”  
  
Roger intently stared up at him. “Why’s that?”  
  
“You’re a fucking tease.”  
  
“I’m a fucking tease?” Roger laughed. “Who’s lying on top of me? Who backed me against the wall and said he’d make me beg?”  
  
“You remember that?” Mark looked surprised.  
  
“You think I’d forget?”  
  
Mark was quite satisfied with that admission and started to move off Roger since Maureen _had_ told him not to move. His groin pressed into Roger’s when he shifted. Gasping, Roger shuddered beneath him.   
  
Mark stilled immediately. He’d just heard Roger... and he could feel Roger’s... and he’d done that. He’d made Roger hard.   
  
Forget the swollen ego, Mark thought and moved his hips another fraction of an inch.   
  
One of those delicious, breathy whimpers fell from Roger’s lips. “Mark,” he whispered.  
  
Mark stared into those darkened green eyes. “Yeah?”  
  
Roger moved his hand like he was gesturing toward something. Confused, Mark looked around and felt cold, slender hands slide down his back.   
  
“I thought I told you to stay right there, Pookie.”  
  
He nervously turned his head. “Sorry?”  
  
Grinning, she whispered in his ear. “We should spank you for that.”  
  
Mark shivered. Maureen was behind him. Roger was under him. And it was a lot more than most guys could take.   
  
She pulled him up off Roger and the floor and pushed him toward their room. “Sorry, baby,” she told Roger. “He’s just a little worked up.” Closing their door, she pushed Mark on the bed.   
  
He was still a little dazed. Uncertainly, he asked, “Are you mad at me?”  
  
She wiggled out of her jeans. “Should I be?” He shrugged and lay back on the bed. She climbed over him, kissing his face. “Honey, baby. I know you have a crush on him. It’s pretty obvious.” She rubbed his stomach. “We’ve been over this; it doesn’t bother me. But now, do you know what he’s doing?”  
  
His breathing sped up as she pulled down his pants, sitting on his hips.   
  
“He’s gonna be jerking off. And thinking of you. And how you like to get all dominant on him.” She pulled out a condom and stroked him.  
  
Mark gasped, “Your hands are cold.” He watched her rub herself, aching to be inside her.   
  
Her hands were warmer when she touched him again. “Better?”  
  
He nodded, feeling her sink down on him.   
  
“Did you like how he felt?” she held his wrists still bound with his scarf.  
  
“Yes,” he groaned, arching toward her.  
  
“You like how hard he was for you?”  
  
His response was more of a strangled cry than actual words.   
  
She moved faster on him, sucking him into her heat. “You know he’s going to come because of you. Touching himself and begging for you.”  
  
“Maureen?” he rasped.  
  
“Yes, Pookie?”  
  
“Kiss me?”  
  
She stilled for a brief moment, but bent her head and captured his mouth. Her lips quickly trailed to his neck as she resumed her pace.   
  
He could feel her all around him. Wet all around him. Her damp hair fell on his neck and her slick fluid smeared on him. And he could still smell leather. Roger’s leather. For a few blissful seconds, there was no freezing air, only wet, bursting warmth.   
  
Maureen shuddered on top of him, then deftly pulled herself off, resting by his side. “You still cold?” she asked, breathily.  
  
He pulled the scarf off his wrists and discarded the condom. Pulling his jeans back on, he slid under the blankets with her. She turned on her side and let him snuggle against her back. “No, I’m good.” He stroked her arms and stomach.   
  
She kissed his hand. “Good.”  
  



	6. Yearn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger wonders what happened between him and Mark.

How do you know when things have gone too far?   
  
Roger figured there should be a sign. Flashing lights or screeching sirens. Just something. Anything so he wouldn’t be lying on the floor trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.   
  
What the hell _had_ just happened?  
  
One moment he was joking with Mark about his girlfriend turning him on and leaving Roger to baby-sit. And the next he was on the floor with a hard-on, aching for Mark to touch him again.   
  
Mark had to be mad at him.   
  
He was trying to get Roger back for all the teasing.   
  
Roger let his open legs fall to the floor, forcing his breath to be deep and even. Why was his girlfriend gone for the weekend? Why was everyone in the world but him having sex? It was so not fair.  
  
The phone rang and made Roger jump. Relaxing on the ground, he let it ring until he heard Collins’ message, “Scream for solutions.”  
  
The machine clicked on and Roger heard the voice on the phone giggle, “You know that message always makes me laugh.”  
  
Immediately, Roger perked up and looked toward the phone. April.  
  
“Anyway, baby,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know I’m gonna be here for a few more days. But I’m thinking about you.”  
  
On his hands and knees, Roger crawled to the phone and picked it up. “Hi, sweetie.”  
  
He could practically hear her smile. “Hey. You answered the phone.”  
  
He grinned. “Well, you’re worth talking to.”  
  
“You’re sweet.”  
  
He shivered on the floor and tried to get comfortable. “April?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“I miss you.”  
  
“Oh, baby,” she comforted sweetly. “I miss you, too.”  
  
He looked down at his tented pants. “I _really_ miss you.”  
  
She giggled and he knew she’d caught his meaning. “How much do you miss me?” she murmured seductively.   
  
Groaning, he shifted to relieve pressure. “So much. Do you know, I haven’t had sex in over seventy-two hours?”  
  
“And, normally, you would have been out the door as soon as your girlfriend left?”  
  
“Normally,” he said bashfully.   
  
“Aw, you waited more than three days for me,” she teased.  
  
“Yes,” he laughed. “You should be flattered.”  
  
“Well, you should know, I’ve also waited three days for you.”  
  
“It’s ‘cause I’m hot. You want me.”  
  
“I’m hot, too,” she purred. “Do you want me?”  
  
Roger slowly let his hand slide down so he could cup himself. “Yessss.”  
  
“You want me to touch you?” she breathed.  
  
He whined, “Fuck, yes.”  
  
“You know you swear a lot when you’re horny,” she grinned. “Let me touch you,” she purred. “I’ll crawl over to you and slide my hands up your legs. Over your thighs and your stomach and up your chest. I love your chest,” she whispered.   
  
Roger moaned and held the phone between his cheek and shoulder, letting his hands rub over his body. “My chest?”  
  
“Yes. It’s muscled and has just enough hair to scratch me when I’m pressed against you.”  
  
“April,” he hummed and slid a hand under his shirt.  
  
“Yes, baby?”  
  
“I want you here. I want to touch you.”  
  
“I’ll be home soon. Think of me touching you. I’ll open your pants, those soft plaid ones that you love to wear. I bet you’re wearing them right now.”  
  
Roger looked down as his hand reached into his boxers. “Am not,” he lied.  
  
“Yeah, I don’t believe you. I’d get you naked and then I’d breathe on you and lick your thighs just because I know it drives you crazy.”  
  
He shuddered and gripped himself.   
  
“Are you thinking of me sucking you?”  
  
Gasping, Roger squeezed and started stroking. “I am now,” he admitted.  
  
“Oh, good. I love the way you taste. And the way you beg for me.”  
  
His breathing – and his hand – quickly sped up. “April.”  
  
“Yes, sweetie. I’m touching you. Stroking you, sucking you, taking you into me. I love having you.”  
  
“Love…you,” he panted, knowing she could hear every whimper he made.   
  
“I love you,” she whispered back.   
  
He didn’t have to see her to know she was smiling. That bright, sweet smile that made him melt into a helpless puddle every time she did it. Groaning her name again, he tossed his head back and came.   
  
It took him a few seconds to realize the phone had fallen. He quickly scavenged and picked it up. “Baby?”  
  
“You dropped me,” she scolded good-naturedly.   
  
He used one hand to fix his pants. “Sorry.”  
  
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re cute.”  
  
Shivering as he finally felt the cold air, he asked, “When will you be here?”  
  
“Few days. I’ll call you again. Ok?”  
  
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I’ll wait even longer for you.”  
  
“Only guys as cute as you can use lines like that. So, tell me, what got you so… hot and bothered?”  
  
Roger felt his stomach drop as he remembered. “Um, I think I pissed Mark off and he sort of wrestled me to the ground.”  
  
“And wrestling Mark turns you on?”  
  
“No. Well, I guess, sort of.”  
  
She was quiet for a minute. “He is cute.”  
  
“Yeah, I think he’s mad at me, though.”  
  
Humming, she assured, “I’m sure you’ll make up.”  
  
“Thanks,” Roger smiled. “I love you, baby.”  
  
“You too. I’ll see you soon.”  
  
Hanging up the phone, he slowly stood and walked to his room. He’d think of a way to make Mark forgive him. He could be very persuasive.  
  



	7. Bubbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger is very persuasive and takes the opportunity to make Mark forgive him.

There were times when opportunity knocked and you ran to the door. Or at least you appreciated it showing up and were glad to take time to greet it.   
  
However, those were also times when it didn’t wake you by dumping a heavy bag on your head.   
  
It was not something that Mark thought very kosher. Angrily, he shoved the bag away and sat up to face his assailant.   
  
Roger grinned brightly. “Good morning, sunshine. How did you sleep?”  
  
Staring with a dumbfounded expression, Mark wondered, in what sick and twisted hell dimension was Roger a morning person? “Wha thuh fuh?”   
  
“Guess what today is,” Roger beamed.  
  
Groggily, Mark groped for his glasses. “The day I kill you? What the hell do you want?”  
  
“My, we’re grumpy this morning.”  
  
Able to see, Mark reached for his roommate. “I will hurt you.”  
  
Roger laughed and let Mark pull him down to the mattress. “Come on. You didn’t guess.”  
  
Satisfied that Roger was sedated for the moment – since Mark was holding him down – he curled on his side, leaving his arm draped across Roger’s chest. Mark closed his eyes, his head sinking into the pillow.  
  
“Mark,” he whispered. “You’re supposed to be guessing not sleeping with me.”  
  
Well, that was something that woke Mark up. Or at least, caused a certain part of him to _definitely_ wake up. He prudently scooted the lower half of his body away from Roger. “What do you want?”  
  
“Guess.”  
  
“To annoy the shit out of me.”  
  
Roger laughed. “No, the _day_.”  
  
“Tuesday?”  
  
“No. Well, yes. But no.”  
  
Mark thought again. “No, I still think it’s the day I kill you for waking me and being so fucking... awake.”  
  
“No,” Roger rolled his eyes. “It’s laundry day.”  
  
Going against all sensibility, Mark sat up and stared. “ _That_ is why you woke me up?”  
  
Roger smiled innocently. If he could smile innocently. “Yes.”  
  
Mark collapsed again, this time on Roger’s arm and shoulder. “I hate you,” he grumbled.  
  
Roger nuzzled – actually fucking _nuzzled_ – Mark’s head. “No, you don’t.”  
  
Thankful he was laying on his stomach, Mark turned his head slightly, his nose touching Roger’s. “I really think I do.”  
  
Roger looked at him with big, beseeching green eyes. “Come on. Roommate bonding! We had fun the last time.”  
  
“That’s cause you were stoned,” Mark mumbled into Roger’s arm that was very warm and muscled and... Mark _really_ shouldn’t go there. “And I had to do all the work.”  
  
“I promise you won’t have to do anything. Except keep me entertained.”  
  
Bringing a hand to his mouth to hide a smile, Mark asked, “What? Are you six?”  
  
“Yes.” He looked at Mark with those eyes again.  
  
Mark sighed. “Fine.”  
  
Grinning, Roger slid away and picked up the laundry bag. “Hurry up, then. We have to get down there before anyone else does.”  
  
Mark groaned and picked up the watch on his nightstand. “Roger, it is six _fucking_ thirty in the morning. No one in their right mind is going to be doing laundry now.”  
  
“Just us!”  
  
“We are not in our right mind,” Mark muttered to himself as he rolled off his bed in a long-sleeved cotton shirt and white briefs, then proceeded to search for clothes. Preferably ones that would hide his... condition. After scavenging through his room and all the usual places he kept clothes, Mark wrapped himself in a blanket and walked out to the kitchen where Roger was making coffee. He crossed his arms and glared.  
  
When Roger noticed, he laughed. “Your hair is sticking up all over the place.”  
  
Scowling, Mark self-consciously tried to flatten it, even though Roger was one to talk since his hair was perpetually in crazy spikes. “Where are my clothes?”   
  
Roger handed him a cup and informed, as if Mark were being ridiculous, “It’s laundry day. They’re in the laundry.”  
  
“Am I supposed to walk around naked?”  
  
Roger smirked. “I did ask you to entertain me.”  
  
Mark ignored what that comment did to him and stalked to his room. “I’m going back to bed!”  
  
Running to stop him, Roger took Mark’s arm and dragged him to Roger’s bedroom. He speedily dug out a pair of pants and offered them to Mark. “You can wear these for the day.”  
  
Mark raised an eyebrow. “You want me to wear your pants? Your favorite pants that you wear all the... hey! Why aren’t you washing those?”  
  
“New pair. Only wore them once.”  
  
“You bought a new pair,” Mark stared.   
  
“April did. She said I was going to outwear the other ones.”  
  
Mark took the plaid garment and walked to the bathroom. “Don’t tell me she’s enabling your taste in clothing.”  
  
“Well, you can’t wear jeans to something like the Cat Scratch. It completely defeats the purpose when someone sits on your lap.”  
  
Mark froze, but promptly shook his head and closed the door. That was really not something he needed to think about right now. He got ready quickly – as Roger kept urging – then helped gather the remaining clothes from their roommates.   
  
Maureen’s were easy since she was at work and left her clothes strewn all over her and Mark’s room. But they had to quietly gather laundry from Benny and Collins. Of course, Roger didn’t know _how_ to do quiet when he was excited, which led Benny to sleepily whack him with a pillow. Darting out of the room before he could cause any more trouble, Roger took the bag they had already filled with laundry and hauled it downstairs.   
  
Annoyed that he was now awake, Benny had handed off his dirty clothes and looked Mark up and down with a raised eyebrow.   
  
Recognizing the bright, amused expression Benny got – the one right before he burst out laughing since Mark seemed to ‘amuse’ him quite often – Mark glared. “I would like to take the opportunity to announce that this,” Mark gestured to his lower half. “Was so NOT my idea.”  
  
Benny bit his lip. “Sure, Mark. You’d never try to get in Roger’s pants.”  
  
Snatching Benny’s laundry and adding it to the rest of the pile, Mark stalked away and met Roger downstairs. He tried not to wonder if Benny could read minds or if he was just trying to be irksome as they walked down to the Laundromat.   
  
As promised, Roger filled a few washers, stuffing as much clothing as he could into them and let Mark sit and wait.   
  
Mark studied him carefully, paying close attention to the way Roger grunted and fought with the clothes, how his face scrunched up with concentration and even the way the bleached hair swayed when he moved.   
  
It did things to Mark that he hadn’t expected. Of course, by now, he was used to his body reacting to the idea of wanting Roger. Who _wouldn’t_ want him? The man practically oozed sex. But this warm feeling bubbling into Mark’s chest, he wasn’t sure what to make of it.   
  
Roger loaded a scoop of laundry detergent into the washer then kicked the familiar box over to Mark.  
  
Glancing down, Mark asked, “How many years have we had that box of soap?”  
  
Roger shrugged. “Like three.”  
  
“How did we manage that?”  
  
“Conservation. All things in moderation.”  
  
“How very Collins of you,” Mark laughed.   
  
After conquering the land of the washing machine, Roger settled victoriously next to Mark and pulled a hidden bottle from the laundry bag. “So,” he charmingly quirked an eyebrow. “Ready for the fun part?”  
  
Mark rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Roger, it is now _seven_ thirty in the morning.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And gigantic bottles of _tequila_ are NOT for seven thirty in the morning.”  
  
Roger scoffed, “Says who?”  
  
“Me. You said you’d do the laundry.”  
  
“And I will!”  
  
Mark shook his head, trying not to smile and encourage this. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”  
  
Looking down at the bottle as he worked it open, Roger asked innocently, “Why would I do a thing like that?”  
  
“I’m not sure. Why are _you_ drinking at this hour?”  
  
“It must not be necessary. And I didn’t sleep last night. So, this is like nighttime for me,” he informed and tossed the cap at Mark.  
  
“So, _that’s_ why you’re so... lively.”   
  
“And April is coming home tonight,” he grinned.  
  
“Oh.” Right. Girlfriend. _Roger has a girlfriend_ , Mark reminded himself. **Mark** had a girlfriend. Although Maureen kept insisting this was the best thing to happen to their relationship in a while.   
  
He watched Roger throw his head back and take a healthy swig, then stick out his tongue as he hacked, “Good stuff.”  
  
Taking the bottle, Mark asked, “So, what isn’t necessary?”  
  
“Getting you drunk,” Roger wiped his mouth. “I could have you anyway.”  
  
Mark felt a rush of heat and glared at Roger before drinking from the bottle. “Ugh, that’s just... nasty,” he exclaimed before putting the bottle to his lips and swallowing another mouthful.   
  
“Just don’t choke on the worm,” Roger grinned with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Reaching for the drink, he took a sip before discreetly tucking the bottle between his legs. He thoughtfully tilted his head toward Mark’s shoulder, staring at the spinning wash. “How many striped shirts _do_ you have?”  
  
Mark rolled his eyes and stole the bottle back, drinking deeply. He was starting to feel that dizzying, warm buzz. “If you can wear these,” Mark lifted his leg, setting it over Roger’s knee. “And have them be your favorite pants. Then I can love those shirts.”  
  
Roger held Mark with an intense stare, eyes filled with bright warmth and cheeks flushed with a rosy glow. His bleached hair had begun to curl with the humidity into soft wisps. Like the ones that seemed to occur after... certain activities... when someone had been mussing the short spikes and making Roger sweat.   
  
Roger’s eyes wandered down to the plaid leg on his thigh. “I like you in my pants,” he smirked and looked back up to Mark’s blue gaze.   
  
Staring, Mark doubted that the blush creeping over his cheeks was from the warm, wet temperature of the Laundromat, any embarrassment he might’ve had or even the alcohol.   
  
“Except they fall off your ass,” Roger added with a wink.  
  
At the moment, Mark thought the pants were actually getting a bit... tight.   
  
“But it’s ok,” Roger promised. “You have a nice ass.”  
  
Were these words really coming out of Roger’s mouth? Really? Maybe it was just the tequila. Mark quickly took another drink. Looking thoughtfully at the bottle, he commented, “I thought only things like champagne were bubbly.”  
  
Roger took a drink, explaining, “This just makes everything tingle and burn.”   
  
Mark felt Roger’s hand rest on his thigh and had to agree. Everything. Tingling and burning. His thoughts drifted for a while, contemplating the fire that kept bubbling through him.   
  
He was quiet for so long that Roger had to slip away for a minute and switch the laundry to the dryers. When he came back, he looked at Mark with such loosely veiled anxiety that Mark feared he’d done something wrong.   
  
Sitting beside him, Roger asked in a quiet voice, “Are we ok?”  
  
Concerned, Mark met his eyes and tried to find a reason Roger would ask such a thing. “Why wouldn’t we be?”  
  
Roger shrugged indifferently though his earlier actions suggested he cared more than he let on. “I thought you might be mad at me. And you were being quiet. I know I’m kind of,” he paused for a moment like he was revealing a huge secret. “Hard to take sometimes? Insincere?” He gave Mark a significant look and said, “Conceited. I’ve driven girlfriends completely crazy with it. But that’s not...” He sighed. “I don’t really mean it.”  
  
Even if he hadn’t been bordering on inebriation, Mark still would have looked at Roger adoringly. “I know.”  
  
Roger glanced at him, slightly stunned. “You do?”  
  
Mark grinned. “Yeah, of course I do.” Boldly and undeniably feeling the effects of the alcohol, Mark sat closer and drooped on Roger’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t like you so much otherwise,” he mumbled.  
  
Roger beamed and draped his arm over the back of their chairs, letting Mark drowsily slump against him. Thoroughly pleased, he rested his head on Mark’s and ignored the dryer alarm when it went off.  
  



	8. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April comes home to a very eager Roger.

Maureen relaxed in the living room, basking in the fact that is was not her turn to do laundry.   
  
Roger, however, was in the middle of folding the freshly washed clothes and delivering them to their owner’s room. Halfway through his chore, he stopped and commented, “You know, a considerate person would help.”  
  
Glancing up from the magazine she’d _borrowed_ from the coffee house, Maureen smiled, “Yeah, they might.” She buried her nose back in her magazine.   
  
Roger rolled his eyes and went back to the laundry.   
  
“Are you just testy because Mark had to go to work and couldn’t help you anymore?” she asked as he walked across the loft to her and Mark’s room.   
  
Roger glared with a smile in his eyes. “No, freezing my ass off because I had to carry a hundred pounds of laundry fifty blocks makes me ‘testy.’”  
  
Laughing, she corrected as she turned a crinkled page, “It’s thirteen blocks and probably only thirty pounds of laundry.”  
  
“Well, it’s December. It’s still freezing. And my ass is a beautiful thing to waste.”  
  
Snickering, Maureen hid her face in her magazine. “You didn’t help me when I had to do it,” she called out as he went to his room.   
  
“Hey, I at least provided you with entertainment!”  
  
“Roger, you screeching and plunking guitar chords does not quality entertainment make.”  
  
He walked out of his room with his hands on his hips, scowling at her. “Screeching and plunking?”  
  
Smiling innocently, she replied, “I’m just teasing. You know I love your voice.”  
  
“Yeah, for that you get to fold Benny’s boxers,” he turned back into his room.  
  
She giggled, “Eww! No!”   
  
He returned and threw said boxers at her. “Better you than me.”  
  
Delicately lifting them from where they landed on her leg, Maureen flung the underwear to the other end of the couch. “We’ll just leave them there and he’ll never know.”  
  
Roger carried the rest of Benny’s clothes across the loft. “He’ll probably find them later and wonder why the hell his boxers are in the couch cushions.”  
  
“And then we’ll tell him he got drunk with my boyfriend and they had crazy sex there.”  
  
Roger cackled. “And you wouldn’t be jealous?”  
  
“No,” she grinned. “I’d laugh.”  
  
“Aw. You share. I guess you are considerate.”  
  
Maureen replied with a smile. “Go to hell.”  
  
Beaming, he quickly bounced over to her. “Only if you come with me,” he said, kissing the top of her head.   
  
She tipped her head up, pointing her nose to the sky. Smiling at him as he dutifully went back to his work, she picked up her magazine again.   
  
A few minutes later the loft door slid open and Collins returned home from the university. Roger dashed to the door, saw it was Collins, then put on a pout and sulked back to the laundry.   
  
Collins raised an eyebrow at Maureen then shouted toward Roger’s room, “Good to see you, too!”   
  
Roger poked his head out his door, “Are you my hot girlfriend who’s going to fuck me?”  
  
Looking Roger up and down, Collins smirked, “Well, if you asked nicely...”  
  
Clearly not knowing what to say to that, Roger blushed and returned to his work.   
  
Maureen laughed as Collins settled beside her, “Good one.”  
  
“He’s fun when you catch him off guard,” Collins winked. Digging around in his shoulder bag for a moment, he handed her a stack of files. “Ready for some revolution?”  
  
Her eyes lit up. “Oh! You brought them!” Excitedly, she pawed through all the disregarded accounts of discrimination on campus at the school Collins worked at. “How did you get these? I thought they were ‘top secret’?”  
  
“You just have to have the right connections,” he grinned.  
  
“You’re the best. You wanna help me?” She started to sort through the files.   
  
“It’s why I brought them home.”  
  
They worked for a while, placing the records according to type of discrimination. Maureen was furious that they had ignored student reports of harassment because of race and sexual orientation. But she still noticed Roger, now finished with the laundry, pacing across the loft.   
  
She clasped Collins’ wrist and checked the time on his watch. “Mark will be home from work in a couple hours,” she told Roger. “Then you can play with him.”  
  
Huffing as he went back to his room, Roger grumbled, “Mark is _also_ not my hot girlfriend who wants to fuck me.”  
  
As soon as he lightly slammed his door, Maureen covered her mouth and tried not to laugh.   
  
Collins shook his head and smiled. “He still doesn’t know Mark _would_ fuck him?”  
  
Maureen looked amused. “You’ve noticed?”  
  
“He’s kind of obvious.” He tossed another file into the AIDS category.   
  
“Well, Roger is too busy thinking everyone wants him to notice when someone actually does.”  
  
“No wonder he’s so sexually frustrated,” Collins laughed.  
  
Maureen burst into giggles, looking up when the loft door carefully slid open again.   
  
April swirled through the door in a long, light blue skirt and a thick ivory sweater. Smiling sweetly, she shut the door behind her. “Hi, guys.” She pointed to their many stacks of papers. “What are all those for?”  
  
Opening her mouth, Maureen attempted to explain but Roger rushed to April and spun her into his arms. She shrieked as she was lifted off the ground and clung to Roger, wrapping her arms and legs around him. He immediately covered her face and neck with kisses, already moaning when she responded with kisses of her own.   
  
Maureen and Collins looked at each other, both wondering how long it would take for Roger and April to either fall or move Roger’s room.   
  
Roger defied them both by shifting April and pulling off her sweater, tossing it toward his bed. She tore off his once-shirt-now-vest and pushed him into his room, waving quickly to Maureen and Collins.  
  
The door was kicked shut and it left Maureen and Collins without a visual. They laughed before returning to their papers.   
  
April, however, got quite the eyeful as Roger speedily sat on the edge of his bed, ripping off his long sleeved shirt, jeans, boxers and socks. She gave him an amused smile as her eyes trailed over his naked body.   
  
Grabbing the silky, sea green tie around her waist, he pulled her to him and slid his hands over her tank top.   
  
She groaned as he rubbed her nipples through her shirt. “Oh,” she gasped. “Roger.”   
  
He grinned. “You like that, baby?”  
  
“You _know_ I do,” she purred, feeling the soft, slow pulsing between her legs steadily increase. Lifting her skirt, she climbed onto the bed, one knee landing on either side of his thighs.   
  
He quickly tore off her tank top, already frustrated with the fact that she was still clothed.   
  
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed their bare chests together and bent her head to his neck. She sucked wetly, teeth pressing into the muscles just enough to make him groan for her.   
  
“April,” he crooned and clutched at her back before sliding his hands to her hips. He could feel her tongue swirling around the metal ring in his ear, reminding him of what else that tongue could do.  
  
“Mmhmm?” she wriggled forward, trying to rub against him.   
  
He swore he could feel her wet heat through her panties. It made him throb for her. “Fuck, I want you,” he desperately groped for the zipper on her skirt.   
  
Grinning, she pushed his hands away and stood for a moment. Tossing her skirt and panties on top of his discarded clothes, she pushed him down and crawled over him. “You want me?” she asked deviously.   
  
His hands clutched at her thighs. “Yesssss.”  
  
She smiled that bright, heart-melting smile and rubbed her slick sex against his belly, then lower over his hard flesh.   
  
He cried out and jerked his hips toward her, but she kept moving lower until she could lick her wetness off his skin. “I want you, too,” she promised and gently gripped his cock.   
  
He shivered and moaned loud curses as she tongue-massaged him. Her wet lips _teasingly_ sucked the tip of his erection. Chanting her name, he seized the covers on his bed.   
  
She stopped and smiled after a moment, moving back up his body. He scrambled to a sitting position so he could squish her to him. Giggling, she ran her hands over his head, through his hair and kissed him. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, twirling hers against it.   
  
His hands pushed between their bodies, roughly massaging her bare breasts.   
  
“Roger,” she gasped, grinding herself against his wet cock. Her painted fingernails scratched across his back.  
  
He squeezed the dark skin around her nipples and felt her quiver. Moaning loudly, she threw her head backwards, arching into his hands.   
  
Pushing himself against her, he rolled her nipples between his fingertips and grinned, “I make you hard.”  
  
She gasped and reached between her legs to stroke him. Rubbing his tip against her clit, she replied, “I could say the same about you.”  
  
Shaking with need, he cried out, “Oh, fucking hell _yes_.”  
  
She kissed him and guided him a little lower, sinking onto him.   
  
He raised his hips so he could press deeper inside her and groaned, “Oh, I take it back. THAT is hell yes... fucking yes... hell? Oh, fuck it, I forget what I said.”   
  
She laughed breathlessly, lifting herself so she could move up and down on him. “You’re hot,” she smirked and held onto his shoulders.   
  
He buried his head against her neck and mumbled something that could have been her name or could’ve been more cursing. She didn’t care either way because he sucked her neck as she repeatedly shoved herself onto him.   
  
He crumpled lower, licking her breasts and using his teeth to graze her flesh.  
  
Her fingers dug into his shoulders. “Harder,” she breathed in a deep, needy voice.   
  
He bit the darker flesh and dragged his teeth along her nipple.   
  
She cried out. “Oh, _fuck_. Roger!”  
  
Straightening his back, he kissed her throat. “You swear a lot when you’re horny, too.”  
  
Smiling, she kissed him deeply then whispered against his lips, “Shut up and fuck me.”  
  
“God, I love you,” he groaned and gripped her ass so she could move faster.   
  
“Oh, fuck. Yes, yes, yes, yes,” she repeated every time she impaled herself.   
  
Becoming dizzy from the wet heat and the clenching and the _April_ , Roger cried, “April. Baby. Oh, please, April.” He could feel the hot tightening build inside him and wanted desperately to take her with him. Licking his thumb, he wedged it between them and rubbed it against her clit.   
  
She practically shrieked and thrusted as fast as she could on him.   
  
“Oh, oh, oh, April,” he shouted as the tightening snapped and he gushed inside her. Quickly, he bent and sucked her nipple hard into his mouth as he sped up the movements on her clit.   
  
She shuddered and cried his name, still bouncing on him. After a few seconds, she slowed and slumped against him. She softly kissed his neck and cheek, murmuring, “Mmm, Roger.”  
  
Drained of any energy, he held her as tightly as he could and gently slid them down to rest on his mattress.   
  
She gave him a squeeze and kissed his stubbled jaw. “Is that,” she panted softly. “Your heartbeat? Or mine?” she asked as the pounding gradually faded.   
  
“Umm,” Roger thought, willing the rushing in his body to slow. He half-shrugged, “Same thing. No difference.”  
  
She laughed drowsily and kissed his cheek.   
  
Smirking, he stroked her back as she continued to press lazy kisses to his collarbone. He was quiet for a few moments as they rested, holding her close and reveling in the feel of her soft, warm body on top of his. He could smell the flowery scent from her shampoo and could hear contented hums as her breathing slowed. It made his heart overflow.   
  
Gently, he squeezed her and rolled them. She whined as he slipped out of her and gave him a half-pout, half-smile as she stretched out on her back.   
  
Leaning over her, he kissed her lips slowly and slid his hand between her thighs. He carefully slicked two fingers with their fluid and pressed them gently against her clit. Moaning in to his mouth, she arched her back slightly off the bed. He leisurely moved his fingers back and forth, coaxing soft whimpers from her.   
  
Unhurriedly, she crooned, “Roger.”  
  
He kissed her cheeks and nose and chin. “You feel good, sweetie?”  
  
“Oh, yes,” she sighed. He scooted lower, letting his tongue slide over her neck and down to her breasts where he traced languid circles over her nipples. “Yes! Roger,” she affectionately stroked his bleached head.   
  
He pressed hard lips into her flesh as he sucked a nipple into his mouth.   
  
She gasped sharply and felt his fingers slip inside her. They moved slowly, but curled up at just the right angle. “Oh, Roger,” her breathing quickened again.  
  
Trailing wet kisses down her chest and stomach, he mumbled against her skin. “I know you like feeling me inside you just after you come.”  
  
“Yes,” she confirmed, twisting her fingers into the sheets.   
  
His hand stilled as he settled between her legs. “Good. Because I am not anywhere close to being done with you.” He licked from the base of his fingers – where they were still buried in her – and up over her clit.   
  
Moaning his name, she shifted her legs to give him better access.   
  
~*~*~  
  
It was a known fact that Maureen and Collins weren’t the sanest individuals, but Mark never expected to find them staring toward Roger’s room like it was a television. And sharing a bag of popcorn?   
  
“Hey guys,” he said a bit nervously as he walked through the door. “What are you doing?”  
  
Maureen giggled and whispered something to Collins, then put a finger to her lips and motioned Mark over to them. He walked warily and let her pull him down to the floor. Kissing his temple, she whispered, “We’ve been enjoying the live porn.”  
  
“What?!” Mark looked at both of them, shocked.   
  
“Shhh!” she hushed him again. “You missed quite the show. Ever since April came home, she and Roger have been,” She thought before smiling devilishly. “Preoccupied.”  
  
Disregarding the fact that he had in fact _seen_ Roger and April together. Once. By accident. Mark exclaimed, “You were listening?!”  
  
Collins took a handful of popcorn and popped some into his mouth. “The whole _building_ was listening.”  
  
“Why?” Mark asked, confused.  
  
“They were a bit loud,” Maureen explained, using her tongue to catch a kernel from the pile in her hand. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if all of Alphabet City heard them.”  
  
Pushing every thought of SexwithRoger _out_ of his mind, Mark looked between his two roommates. “So, why did you stay here?”  
  
“Nothing better to do,” Collins winked.  
  
“And we were here first! I was surprised they actually made it to his room.”  
  
Mark’s face scrunched. “I didn’t need to know that.”  
  
“Aw, baby.” She stroked his hair and whispered in his ear, “Are you jealous?”  
  
“No!” Mark glared, his gaze involuntarily going toward Roger’s room. “You don’t think they’re... right now?”  
  
“That,” Collins informed. “Would be the question of debate for tonight.”  
  
Maureen chomped on more popcorn. “I bet they’re still at it.”  
  
Mark looked up at her. “But it’s quiet.”  
  
“ _You_ are quiet, too,” Maureen announced. Collins looked at him and chuckled. “Sometimes,” she added and winked at the philosopher.   
  
Collins looked down at Mark and inquired, “You think they aren’t?”  
  
“Well, if they were being so _loud_ before,” Mark grumbled.   
  
Maureen and Collins took the opportunity to laugh again.  
  
“Fine,” Mark said, detangling from Maureen. “I’ll prove it.”  
  
Amused, they watched Mark walk over and lightly knock on Roger’s door. When there was no answer, he glanced back at his roommates. His _girlfriend_ and his roommate, who were both grinning like Mark was about to have a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. Ignoring them, he cautiously peered inside.   
  
And quickly wished he hadn’t.   
  
At least, not when Collins and Maureen were there waiting for him.   
  
Roger’s head was buried between April’s open legs. Her arms were flung over her head, clutching at the sheets. One long, pale leg was draped over Roger’s back and shoulder and she twisted and gasped for breath.   
  
Mark watched her moan quietly and tremble, her breasts quivering. Her nipples stood out hard and red, glistening with what was likely saliva.   
  
And Mark couldn’t stop staring. He didn’t want to stop staring. April was so... so gorgeous. And so aroused and it was Roger doing that to her. Roger who could..  
  
Maureen’s insistent coughing startled Mark. Guiltily, he looked over at his girlfriend and walked away from Roger’s room.   
  
“Um... yeah... they’re,” he swallowed and walked across the loft. “Still at it.”  
  
Collins and Maureen couldn’t help laughing after Mark shut his door and didn’t return for another hour.  
  



	9. Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark experiences a sticky situation with Roger and April.

“You look so good. So _hot_ all spread out for me. I’m going to cover you with this and lick it all off your...”  
  
Mark stopped walking toward the kitchen and rubbed his eyes. He could only see her back and the top of her head, but her red hair of course made her unmistakable. “Don’t tell me you do it, too.”  
  
April turned her head curiously, “Do what?”  
  
“Talk to your food. Sit on the table and talk to your food.”  
  
Roger sat up from out of nowhere, topless and being straddled by April. “Nope! Only I do that,” he grinned and kissed his girlfriend, sucking on her lips.  
  
Staring, Mark attempted to hide what Roger and April were doing to him. She was clearly not wearing anything but one of Roger’s button up shirts and Roger must have been wearing a pair of boxers, but to actually inspect that area might give Mark a stroke so early in the morning. He did, however, notice Roger and April both had white powder dusting their hair and arms. Roger’s naked back also had white handprints on it.   
  
Mark stood watching and wondering what on earth they had gotten in to before the timer on their six hundred year old oven went off. Giggling, April struggled away and hopped off Roger and the table, pulling a tray out of the oven.  
  
Roger looked at her with a goopy gaze and a lopsided smile on his face.   
  
Mark rolled his eyes. At least he could now tell that Roger _was_ wearing boxers.   
  
Tented boxers.   
  
Mark quickly looked at the ceiling and walked into the kitchen. He peered over April’s shoulder, “Did you make breakfast?”  
  
Grinning and tossing oven mitts at Roger, she nodded, “Cinnamon rolls. Actually, Roger was going to convince me that _he_ would make a good breakfast...”  
  
“Hey!” Roger protested, sliding off the table. “The icing and the oral sex was all your idea.”  
  
April bit her lip, trying not to laugh.   
  
Mark glanced between both of them. “Somehow,” he commented to Roger. “I don’t think you protested much.”  
  
“Well, I had to fight with him so he would agree on the cinnamon rolls,” April stirred a bowl of something thick and gooey. “He wanted more cornbread,” she explained to Mark.  
  
Pointing to the bowl April still held, Roger exclaimed as he walked to his room, “It’s the breakfast of champions!”  
  
Once he disappeared, Mark turned to her and asked, “Cornbread? Cornbread is the breakfast of champions?”  
  
She laughed and drizzled frosting on her finger. “No,” she winked. “But sugar and Roger come is.”  
  
Mark's heart started pounding as he stared at her in shock.   
  
“It’s ok,” she comforted with a smile as she licked her finger clean. “Everyone wants my boyfriend.”  
  
Mark blushed guilty.  
  
“I mean, have you seen him? I wouldn’t blame anyone for wanting a piece of that.”  
  
Nervously, Mark chuckled.   
  
“You know,” she said as she spooned frosting onto the cinnamon rolls. “Some guys like to smoke after sex, Roger just likes to eat.”   
  
“Is that right,” Mark replied with what April thought was impressive fake nonchalance. He didn’t even notice when Roger came up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling Mark against his chest.   
  
“Yep,” Roger confirmed. “Sex and food. Best things in the world.” He turned his head and whispered into Mark’s ear. “Especially with April. She’s just a goddess.”  
  
April looked over at them with a bright, wicked smile and Mark tried hard to concentrate on something other than Roger’s warm breath in his ear and sexy, disheveled April.  
  
She walked over to them and stood in front of Mark, her barely-buttoned shirt revealing more skin than Mark thought he could handle, but if he moved backwards, he’d be pressed harder into Roger’s _very_ evidently aroused body.   
  
She held a finger covered in thick, white frosting up to Mark’s face. “Do you want a taste?” she asked sweetly.  
  
Frozen, Mark could only stare and feel his shorts grow tighter around his groin.   
  
Roger leaned over Mark’s shoulder and sucked April’s finger into his mouth, licking off all the sticky sweet icing.   
  
Mark took the opportunity to duck out from between them before they crushed together, kissing and licking each others lips. “I’m just gonna...” he stammered and pointed to the bathroom. He was fairly certain neither Roger nor April noticed as he slipped away for a nice, _long_ shower.  
  



	10. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The high holy holidays bring quite a bit of frustration to Mark, but it’s nothing the New Year, Maureen, Roger, April and a little alcohol can’t fix. Or make worse.

“December 31, 7pm and there seems to be a great lack of joy and excitement around here even on this festive day. Tell me, baby, is the sour face just because you haven’t had an orgasm in a month, or are you always like this?”  
  
“Maureen,” Mark glared from the sofa. “Put my fucking camera down.”  
  
She pouted semi-sympathetically and set the camera on the end table. “Pookie,” she purred and snuggled up to Mark. “Why are you pouting?”  
  
Mark turned away. “I’m not pouting.”  
  
Pressing her nose against his cheek, Maureen ran a finger over his lower lip. “Ok, why is your lip sticking out?”  
  
“Because you’re pulling on it.”  
  
“Mmm,” she rubbed her leg against his. “You want me to pull on something else?”  
  
Mark’s eyes widened slightly. He turned his head toward her, glancing up and down. “You... want to?”  
  
Smirking, Maureen ran her hand over his chest. “Always, baby.”  
  
He sucked in a breath as her fingers trailed over his stomach and curled under his sweater. “You think I- you think we can?”  
  
Draping her arm over his shoulders, Maureen leaned closer and grasped the short strawberry blond hair. “Mmhmm,” she purred.  
  
Mark tensed with anticipation as she pulled his head back and sucked on his neck. He moaned softly just as Benny stepped into the room.   
  
“Not that I want to interrupt,” Benny started as he walked to the bathroom. “Cause Mark, man, you need to get laid.” Looking in the mirror, he adjusted his collar and inspected his recently shaved chin as he heard Maureen giggle. “But I wanted to say goodbye before I head out.” Benny strolled to the door in his new tan slacks and jacket – Christmas presents from his girlfriend.   
  
Maureen waved. “See you next year.”  
  
Mark lifted his head, anxiously looking toward his best friend. “Are you really not spending New Years with us?”  
  
“He has some hot blonde chick who’s going to get drunk and ravage him all night,” Maureen answered. “Why would he want to be with us?”  
  
Laughing, Benny attempted to hide his excitement as he closed the door behind him and disappeared down the stairs.   
  
Mark stared after Benny, uneasiness pooling in his stomach, until Maureen distracted him by sliding her tongue in his ear. Shivering, Mark groaned loudly. He could feel and hear and _feel_ her tongue tracing over and in his ear. All hot and loud and moist and her hand rubbed down to his thigh, creeping closer and closer and closer... until Mark saw April’s seductive smirk out of the corner of his eye.  
  
“You must have a very talented tongue, Maureen,” April commented silkily.   
  
Mark watched his girlfriend flash deep, enticing eyes at April. “Oh, I do, baby,” she purred and wriggled herself onto Mark’s lap.   
  
For a moment, Mark thought his head might explode as he glanced back and forth between the two women. However, when the loft door opened minutes later, Mark _confirmed_ that he was, in fact, done for.   
  
Maureen tore her eyes away from April as the redhead gave Roger a kiss and ran away to change. “Where’d you guys disappear to?” she asked as Roger and Collins carried paper bags into the kitchen.   
  
“To get booze,” Roger answered as if it were obvious.  
  
“Ah. Of course,” Maureen grinned, stroking Mark’s thigh again when she noticed how closely he watched Roger.   
  
Swallowing hard, Mark tried to keep the squeak out of his voice and asked, “How the hell could you afford all that shit?” He watched Collins arrange bottles on the table. “You must’ve brought half the store home.”  
  
“We couldn’t afford it,” Collins answered, smirking.   
  
Mark eyed the various liquors. “Don’t tell me it was liberated from its prison or anything.”  
  
“No,” Roger laughed. “ _We_ can’t afford it. But Benjamin can.”  
  
“Since when?” Mark asked, trying to ignore the soft, wet tongue that had gone back to licking him.   
  
“Since he got a sugar mama who spoils him,” Roger replied.   
  
“It was only fair that we share in his good fortune,” Collins added.  
  
Closing his eyes, Mark sighed, “Without his knowledge?”  
  
Roger walked by and ruffled Mark’s hair. “He’ll find out sooner or later.”   
  
Feeling Mark jump at Roger’s touch, Maureen rocked her hips against his groin. He gave a sharp whimper and scratched insistently down her back. Thoroughly pleased, she giggled and took his face in her hands, planting deep, wet kisses on his mouth.   
  
“Good God, man!” Roger exclaimed overdramatically. “You have a room!”  
  
Carrying the last paper bag to his bedroom, Collins laughed. “You’re one to talk.”  
  
“Hey! I’ll have you know that all my... extracurricular activities go on _behind_ closed doors.”  
  
Maureen stifled a giggle. “That is true. Those doors were closed.”  
  
“Best to leave some things to the imagination,” Collins winked and shut his door.  
  
Mark shifted uncomfortably, thankful for the Maureen on his lap. “Where’s he off to now?” he asked, pointing toward Collins’ room.  
  
Maureen kissed Mark near his lips. “Getting dressed.”  
  
“But, he was already dressed,” he moaned dreamily and leaned his head back.   
  
Roger flopped onto the couch near Mark and Maureen. “Dressed for tonight.”  
  
Mark clutched at his girlfriend, trying to breathe in the smell of her hair and not the smoky leather that wafted from Roger. “What’s tonight?”  
  
Roger rolled his eyes. “Whipped.”  
  
Mark turned away from Maureen to retort, but April interrupted. “Tonight is New Years,” she explained, leaning seductively against the doorframe to Roger’s room. “So, we all get to wear costumes and dress up.” She stepped forward and twirled in a deep green velvet dress. “What do you think?”  
  
Mark looked at Roger who was ready to melt into a puddle on the floor. Then Mark looked at Maureen who tipped her head and was staring almost as intently as Roger. “Wow,” she breathed, eyes trailing over the black tights that covered April’s long legs.   
  
Mark decided it was probably dangerous to look directly at April. “Nice,” he commented. “You look good.”  
  
“Good enough to eat,” Roger licked his lips hungrily.   
  
“Yum,” Maureen grinned.  
  
“Perfect,” April giggled and turned her back, revealing several undone pearl buttons. “Now, would someone be kind enough to finish these?” she pointed to the buttons.  
  
Roger leapt from the sofa. Mark wasn’t convinced that Maureen wasn’t ready to do the same, but she snuggled closer to Mark, moaning against his neck.   
  
Breathing slowly through his mouth, Mark watched Roger’s nimble fingers work against April’s back and felt Maureen vibrating with warmth against his body.   
  
April broke the trance when she exclaimed, “Roger!” Twisting away from her boyfriend, she scolded, “You’re supposed to button them not UN-button them.”  
  
Maureen quickly slid from Mark’s lap. “Here, I’ll do it!”  
  
Roger bit his lip and tried to look innocent while April tried not to smile as she glared at him.   
  
Mark crossed his legs, eyes darting between a hungry Roger and Maureen taking her time threading each of April’s buttons through its loop.   
  
April turned and hugged Maureen as soon as she was finished. “Thank you, honey. Now, let’s go get you dressed.” April winked and eagerly bounded away with Maureen.  
  
Roger stared after the redhead with his usual lusty, gooey gaze.   
  
Walking stiffly from the sofa, Mark retorted, “Whipped.”  
  
Grinning, Roger followed Mark to the kitchen. “Mmhmm.” He opened two of the beer bottles and handed one to his roommate.   
  
“Aren’t these for later?”  
  
“Now is later,” Roger explained and held up his bottle. “To wine, women and song.”  
  
“This is beer. Not wine,” Mark said but clinked their bottles together.   
  
Roger shrugged and took a long drink.   
  
“It has the same end result,” Collins said, coming up behind Mark and taking the bottle from his hand. “So, I don’t think he cares.”  
  
Mark rolled his eyes and opened another bottle.   
  
“Exactly!” Roger confirmed. “It’s just like sex.”  
  
Glad he had yet to take a drink, Mark exclaimed, “What?”  
  
“Drinking! It’s just like sex,” Roger repeated. “You know, beer, wine, men, women. However you do it, whoever you do it with, you still end up drunk.”  
  
Laughing, Collins added, “Some drinks just get you there faster.”  
  
“Exactly!” Roger cackled and chugged down more beer.   
  
Mark took a long drink. “Then it’s a good thing you bought lots of alcohol.”  
  
Grinning, Roger turned to Collins. “So! Who are you supposed to be?”  
  
Collins quirked an eyebrow and replied in a deepened voice, “I’m... Bruce Wayne.”  
  
Roger also responded in an altered voice. “Far out, dude.”  
  
Mark stared at him. “Did you really just say that?”  
  
Nodding, Roger smiled proudly.   
  
“Ok, then I’m going to ask this instead,” Mark started. “Why are we dressing up on New Years? Isn’t this more of a Halloween thing?”  
  
“Everyone wears a costume on Halloween, but if you do it on New Years, it’s special.”  
  
“Whose philosophy is that?”  
  
“April’s,” Roger said, defensiveness seeping into his tone.  
  
Deciding it was best to move on, Mark asked, “Are you going to wear something then?”  
  
“Yep!” Roger smiled, went to his room and added, “Don’t touch my drink.”  
  
Mark huffed with frustration. “He’s unbelievable.”  
  
Collins chuckled to himself and reclined on the sofa as the girls reemerged. Maureen had dressed in tight brown corduroy pants and a light blue jacket. Her eyelids were dusted with shimmering purple eye shadow and her lips with bright, rose-red lipstick. Mark had to remind himself that she was no longer sitting on his lap and therefore no longer hiding any... condition that might be occurring in his pants. He swallowed hard and walked toward her. “And what’s your costume?”  
  
She smiled and lifted her arms, turning her back to Mark. Light purple fabric hung in wisps from the arms and shoulders of her jacket.   
  
“You’re... a fairy?” he guessed.  
  
She rolled her eyes and spun back to face him. “No, I’m a butterfly.”  
  
April smiled and exclaimed, “Oh, here!” She placed a headband that bobbled with sparkly fake antennae on Maureen’s loose curls.   
  
Mark couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek.  
  
April giggled and went straight for Roger’s drink.   
  
“Roger said not to,” Mark warned.  
  
April took a sip. “And you do whatever Roger tells you to?” she grinned with sparkling eyes.   
  
“No!” Mark countered too defensively.   
  
Smirking, she shrugged. “I would. He’s very attentive,” she winked.  
  
“Are you talking about me?” Roger asked as he came out of his room. He had donned his favorite forest green sweatshirt, the one that had a medieval-looking lace-up collar, and a pair of black leather pants that fit him even closer than Maureen’s tight brown pants fit her.   
  
“Oooh, baby,” April bounced over to him. “Now, that’s what I like.” She hooked her fingers under the hem of his sweatshirt and grabbed him by his waistband, kissing him soundly.   
  
Roger’s pants also appeared to have a lace-up fastening. Not that Mark was looking or anything. “How do you even wear boxers with those?” he asked.   
  
Roger smirked. “You don’t.”  
  
“I take it you don’t wear briefs, either,” Maureen added.   
  
“Nope. Nothing but skin,” he promised, kissing April’s face. “It’s just like the cows wear them.”  
  
Maureen shook her head.  
  
And Mark didn’t think about Roger not wearing underwear. Not one bit. Instead, he stared at the back of April’s head and supposed it was Maureen who had braided part of her fiery red hair with green ribbon. “Let me guess,” he started. “You’re Robin Hood and Maid Marian.”  
  
“Robin Hood!” Roger announced. “I like that. Much more rugged.”  
  
“Rugged,” April giggled and turned in Roger’s arms so she could reach for the beer bottle they’d shared.   
  
“I’ll be Robin Hood, but she’s my Juliet,” he said, kissing April's temple.  
  
Mark raised his eyebrow. “So, you were going to be Romeo?”  
  
“Maybe,” Roger grinned and picked up a bottle of Kahlua from the table. April’s eyes lit up and she quickly traded the beer for the coffee liquor. Opening the bottle, she took a healthy swig. Roger watched her adoringly, humming and swaying with her.   
  
“Your turn, Mark,” April glanced toward him.  
  
“W-wha” he cleared his throat. “What?”  
  
“To get dressed. You need a costume.”  
  
Mark relaxed slightly. “I don’t have one.”  
  
“It doesn’t have to be fancy,” she pointed to her dress. “This was a Christmas present from my sister.”  
  
“Mmm,” Roger swooned, picking up a bottle of tequila. “I love your sister.”  
  
“Oh! I could get you a hat and boots and you could be a cowboy,” Maureen suggested.  
  
He glared at her. “No.”  
  
“Me on the green, green dress,” Roger crooned, stroking April’s sides. When he noticed his roommates staring at him, he began, “You could put on a striped shirt and glasses...”  
  
Mark looked down. “I’m wearing glasses and a striped shirt.   
  
“And you could be an accountant,” Roger said, taking a drink with his mouth completely _over_ the bottle opening.   
  
Mark tried not to stare and shook his head, unamused.   
  
“You don’t get to be a filmmaker or a photographer or anything like that,” April informed.   
  
“Me on yoooou,” Roger sang into April’s neck.  
  
Maureen bounced. “Oh! I’ve got it!” She dashed away for a moment and returned with one of her headbands. Pulling Mark close, she placed a brown headband on his blond hair and gave his nose a big, firm kiss. She looked at him proudly and spun him toward their roommates. “You can be a reindeer!” she grinned.   
  
Collins laughed, “Looking good, man.”  
  
“Oh, yeah” April cooed. “Hot stuff.”  
  
“I’d ride you any day,” Roger smirked.  
  
Mark’s eyes went wide.   
  
“He’s not a horse!” Maureen announced, steering her boyfriend to the couch. “But he is a good ride,” she winked.  
  
Mark grumbled with slightly reddened cheeks. “I hate you all, I hope you know that.”  
  
“No, you don’t,” Maureen insisted. “Because now we are going to get you drunk.”  
  
“Isn’t this supposed to be for midnight?” Mark gestured to the alcohol on the table.  
  
“It’s near midnight,” Collins reasoned.  
  
“Three hours away is near midnight?”  
  
“If it means you get to drink sooner, then hell yes,” Maureen insisted, snatching Mark’s beer.  
  
“I never knew you were so into drinking,” Mark said, watching her gulp the alcohol.  
  
“There’s a lot that you don’t know about me,” she whispered and gave him a wickedly seductive smile.  
  
Mark swore he was melting in his seat. He scooted closer to her and kissed her cheek. “I want to know everything.”  
  
She giggled. “All in good time, pookie.”  
  
Mark took his beer back. “Are we still going downtown tonight?”  
  
“Definitely,” April assured, giggling as Roger sucked wetly on her neck. “Drinks first. Downtown later.”   
  
Mark watched them half-dancing, half-grinding together as they both drank from their respective bottles. He was sure it wasn’t the alcohol that was making him warm.   
  
Two beers, several shots of rum, tequila and vodka later and Mark was re-convinced that he had the best friends in the world. He lounged on the floor between Maureen’s legs and slowly asked, “What time is it?”  
  
From his sprawled position on the sofa, Collins looked at his watch. “11:29.”  
  
“Happy New Year!” Roger exclaimed with a wild flourish of arms.  
  
“No, no.” April stroked his bleached hair. “That’s at 11:59.”  
  
“Wow,” Maureen commented. “Is he trashed.” She stood on wobbly legs. “Maybe I’m a little trashed,” she giggled.  
  
“Careful,” Roger warned. “Someone might take advantage of you.”  
  
She raised her eyebrow and looked around the room. “Who? The philosopher who likes cock? Your girlfriend? Who also like cock? My boyfriend who can’t get it up? Or you who thinks the New Year starts at 11:30?”  
  
“Well, if you’re going to be all logical about it...” Roger slurred.  
  
Mark protested, “I can too get it up!”   
  
“Let’s go then, Rudolph,” she challenged.  
  
Mark started to stand but changed his mind. “I’m not in the mood.”  
  
“Well, you’re going to be,” Maureen said and pulled him to his feet.   
  
“Yeah,” April agreed and stood with Roger. “We should get going.”  
  
Mark’s face fell. “You’re leaving?”  
  
“We all are,” she told him “Come on. New Years. Midnight. Balls dropping and all that.”  
  
Roger snorted. “My girlfriend said balls.”  
  
“Isn’t he charming?” she smiled and rolled her eyes.  
  
“Like a prince,” Collins ruffled Roger’s hair as he walked to the door.   
  
“Don’t worry, Mark,” Maureen insisted. “I’ll hold your hand. The fresh air will be nice.”  
  
He had to admit, the cold air did feel good as the five of them walked around the neighborhood. Except, every so often, he’d see Roger and April squished together, kissing and laughing as they walked. He shook his head, trying to toss the fog from his head. The whole pining-for-Roger was getting ridiculous.   
  
Glancing at Maureen, still in perfect – albeit, flushed – makeup, he thought maybe repressing things was a bad idea after all. She had always been willing to help with his... problems. Roger was just another fantasy. Just like Maureen said. Just a fantasy. And he loved Maureen. She’d help with his fantasy again until it was gone.  
  
Turning to her, he stopped walking and held her arms. “I love you,” he told her. “So much. More than anything.”  
  
She looked slightly confused. “Love you, too, pookie.”  
  
Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her taking his time to run his tongue over her lips and into her mouth. She made a pleased sound in her throat and kissed him back.   
  
“Oh!” Roger shouted. “Happy New Year!” He pulled April tightly to him and kissed her deeply.   
  
Then he grabbed Collins’ face in his hands and gave him a loud, quick smack on the lips.   
  
Mark watched, nearly terrified as Roger then swooped Maureen into his arms and kissed her quickly. “Hey!” he protested. “That is _my_ girlfriend! And I don’t go around kissing your...”  
  
“Happy New Year!” Roger yelled again and took Mark into his arms.   
  
Mark felt his legs give out as Roger’s lips wetly, squished into his. He could feel the buzzing warmth of alcohol radiating off them and could taste the tequila that Roger loved. And he smelled the leather and felt the strong arms keeping him standing. And it was no fantasy. No dream, no sugar-induced high, no pretending. Just Roger.   
  
Mark clung to the forest-green Robin Hood sweatshirt and kissed Roger back.   
  
Roger broke away and laughed. Not a cold, mirthless laugh, but one filled with great amusement. “You taste like cornbread,” he chuckled and bounded back to April.   
  
Maureen and Collins both sprung forward to catch Mark before he fainted to the ground.   
  
“Pookie?” Maureen fanned Mark’s face. “You ok?”  
  
“Mmhmm.”  
  
Collins helped him stand back up. “Think you can make it to the New Year?”  
  
Mark looked at both of them. “It’s still not midnight?”  
  
“No, we have like ten minutes,” Maureen said.   
  
Mark stared.   
  
“Mark?” Collins asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “Mark?”  
  
Maureen poked his arm. “Baby?”  
  
Mark could only groan as they awaited the New Year, “Fuuuuuuck.”


	11. Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Years celebration continues, Maureen learns Mark’s secret, (No, not that he has the hots for Roger. We ALL know that...) and karma is alive and well.

The thing about December in New York, or what was actually now January... but either way the thing was, it was supposed to be cold.   
  
Mark decided to blame it on the alcohol Collins and Roger had bought. Or the Maureen in soft and tight pants who had been pressed against him most of the night.   
  
That was always a safe bet. When in doubt – blame Maureen.   
  
Of course there was someone else wandering around in tight pants who Mark could blame for the onslaught of all things _not_ cold attacking Mark’s body.   
  
Someone who had kissed him. _Kissed_ him. As in warm, insistent lips squishing against Mark’s and tasting like liquor and cigarettes.   
  
Oh, cigarettes are bad for you. Bad, bad, bad for you. But Mark couldn’t help wanting to taste them again.   
  
He had the flicker of hope that, when it _did_ actually come to midnight, Roger might kiss him again. And again. And maybe again.   
  
Mark shook his head. No wonder it felt like his heart was racing.   
  
Of course, midnight had come and gone and Roger and April were nowhere to be found. Mark tried not to show his disappointment as he and Maureen and Collins counted down the last seconds of December. It would have been Mark’s resolution to forget about the whole SexwithRoger thing, but he –as in the indecently lewd songwriter – kept making it so fucking hard.   
  
And, obviously, it was the constantly _hard_ part being the problem. As Benny liked to say whenever Mark was particularly frustrated, all go and no come.   
  
Mark was not amused.   
  
Maybe it was because Maureen had been working a lot recently, or because he still worried he should be doing something holy and celibate this time of year. Or most likely it was because of the brief hints he’d gotten of having _Roger._ But at this point, Mark didn’t really care which reason had kept him from... gratification for so long. He just knew it had to end.   
  
When Collins left to party the early morning away with his work friends, and Maureen started home to the loft, Mark resolved that the dry spell would end that night.   
  
With heat still sifting through him and the fading but still present tingle of alcohol giving him more than enough nerve, Mark clutched Maureen to him, kissing and groping and not caring who saw.   
  
She gave a surprised, but pleased shriek and wiggled against him.   
  
“I want you,” he breathed into her mouth, hands firmly rubbing down her body.   
  
She giggled and responded in a deep voice, “I can tell.” Kissing him back, but still trying to walk, she suddenly stopped his hands. “Oh! I left something at work.”  
  
“Mmsorry,” Mark hummed and leaned in to kiss her.   
  
Smiling, she stopped him again. “I need to go get it. I’ll be right back.”  
  
Ok, _now_ Mark felt cold. He stood still, utterly disappointed.   
  
“Aw, Pookie,” she comforted. “It’s a couple blocks. It’ll only take me like ten minutes. I promise you’ll like it.”  
  
Mark still pouted.   
  
She kissed his lower lip and sucked it into her mouth. “I _promise_. Now, you go home and get all naked for me and I’ll be there soon.”  
  
“You better be quick, Maureen,” Mark relented.   
  
“Ooo,” she purred with sparkling eyes. “If I’m not, will you punish me for being a naughty girl?”  
  
Mark swore his heart stopped for a moment. Or maybe it was his brain. His pants definitely were tighter than he thought they had been. That had to mean some level of impairment.  
  
Maureen stroked his chin and gave him a wicked smile before scampering off to the café where she worked.   
  
Sighing, Mark hoped she wouldn’t be too long and turned in the opposite direction to walk home. What could she possibly need at work _right now_? Maybe she had another boyfriend stashed away and that was why Mark’s insatiable girlfriend hadn’t been bothered by the recent lack of physical activity in their relationship. Disgusted, Mark shook that idea away. It was ridiculous anyway.   
  
Climbing the stairs, he tried to focus on what he’d do to her once she returned. Rip off her clothes, definitely. And kiss her. Or bite her since she always seemed to like that. Maybe he could even take her against the wall just after she walked in. _Yeah,_ he thought, _that’d be hot._  
  
With this clearly exciting image in his head, Mark slid the door of the loft open.   
  
The unmistakable sounds coming from Roger’s room only added to Mark’s growing frustration.   
  
He quickly grabbed the bottle of liquor still resting on the metal table and took a long swig, glaring at the noisy room. Stupid Roger and his stupid girlfriend. And their stupid _teasing_. Stupid Roger and his never-ending ability to get laid. Stupid Roger and his well defined muscles and his sexy voice and his great big...  
  
Mark’s eyes widened and he tossed his head. Bad train of thought. Very bad. Drinking from the bottle as he walked, Mark went to his room and slammed the door. Shrugging off all his clothes, just like Maureen told him too, Mark crawled under the blankets on his bed. Still able to hear Roger and April through the walls, Mark grumbled and shoved a pillow over his head.   
  
It startled him when someone poked at his ribcage. “Maureen!” he scolded, impatiently.  
  
She pushed him on his back and straddled his hips. “Pookie?” she responded. “What are you doing?”  
  
Mark breathed a sigh of relief as he felt her fingers dance across his chest and stomach. “Nothing.”  
  
She quirked an eyebrow. “You weren’t... _listening_?”  
  
“No,” he grumbled.  
  
“Why not?” She nuzzled her head against his neck and drew her teeth over his skin.  
  
“I’m supposed to be making love to you. I can’t be thinking about them.”  
  
Stopping, Maureen sat up and looked down at him. “You must have had more to drink than I thought. Why on earth should you not be thinking about them?”  
  
“Because!” he hit fists against the bed. “We haven’t done this in... too long. And I’ve already seen them do it too many times; I don’t need to hear it! They’re like fucking bunnies!”  
  
She giggled. “You mean bunnies fucking?”  
  
He glared and thought about pushing her off him.  
  
“Ok, Mark,” she said calmly. “I’d say I’m only going to say this one more time, but I’m sure I’ll have to say it... more times than that, but baby, it’s ok that you think about it. I _like_ when you think about it and if you worry about how you’re not supposed to one more time I might have to scream.”  
  
“I’m just tired of their constant fucking. It’s insane. Everywhere I turn, I see them fucking.”  
  
Smiling and leaning down again, Maureen whispered, “You’re just jealous.”   
  
“Am not.”  
  
She rolled her eyes. “So,” she bit his ear and made him gasp. “Have you watched them?”  
  
Rushing heat came back to Mark. “N-no.”  
  
“Ha,” she purred and rocked her hips against his. “You said you’d seen them too many times.”  
  
Aching for contact, he arched toward her. “Ok, but I didn’t mean to.”  
  
“Yeah, I believe that.” Changing her voice, she teased, “I’m sorry, officer, I didn’t mean to stare at my rock-star roommate while he was screwing his hot girlfriend.” Scratching his sides with her fingernails, she licked and then bit his nipple.  
  
Mark’s only response was a violent whimper.   
  
Maureen pushed his legs apart and pressed her belly against him. “I think _you’re_ the naughty one.”  
  
Shivering, he crooned, “Maureeeeeeen.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
He reached toward her insistently, desperate for contact.   
  
She shook her head and lifted herself off of him. Watching her toss off her jacket and shirt, he quickly dug a condom from his pillowcase and rolled it on. Having peeled off her pants, she told him, “Lie on your stomach.”  
  
“But...”  
  
“Do it,” she commanded.  
  
Mark rolled obediently and was instantly grateful for something to rub against.   
  
“Hey now,” Maureen scolded, gripping Mark’s waist and pulling him on his hands and knees. “I didn’t say you could do that.”  
  
A long, low whine fell from Mark’s lips.   
  
Maureen shook her head. “You _are_ such a bad boy.” Lightly, she slapped the white skin of his ass.   
  
Mark groaned and arched toward her hand.  
  
Maureen’s face lit up. “Ooh, did you like that?”  
  
“Yeah,” Mark panted.   
  
Immediately, Maureen’s hand connected again with a loud smack.   
  
Mark gasped at the added pressure. “More,” he breathed. “Harder.”  
  
She laughed, “Mark, you slut.”  
  
Moaning, Mark agreed and jumped as she continued to slap him. “Oh, yes... oh! God Maureen. Yes!”  
  
Grinning, Maureen ran her hands over his reddened ass and down his thighs. “You’re skin is so warm. It’s like you’re burning.”  
  
Mark mumble, “I think... I am. It’s so hot.”  
  
“Yeah?” she spanked him again and felt him quiver.   
  
“Maureen!” he wailed, loving the sharp stinging he felt every time she touched him. It was all heat and sweat and more heat. “Maureen,” he said in a softer voice, turning and pouncing on her. “I need you. Now. Please.”  
  
She smiled and locked her legs around his thighs. “Oooh, at the foot of the bed. How kinky of you,” she winked.  
  
“Shut up,” he gasped with a smile as he pressed into her.   
  
Moaning contentedly, she shifted so she could still slap his ass. “Fuck me,” she demanded.  
  
He could only grunt and struggle for breath as he slammed in and out of her all while jumping every time she spanked him.   
  
“Oh, you’re hot,” she panted.  
  
“Mau... reeeeeen. Oh, shiiiiiiiit yes!”  
  
“Are you close, baby?” she whispered in his ear.  
  
“Yes! Fuh..UCK!.”  
  
Giggling breathily, she pushed him up into a kneeling position. He grasped her thighs and thrusted faster, watching her reach down to rub her clit.   
  
Roger’s voice started both of them. “Hey, guys. Not that I’m a prude...”   
  
Mark’s head jerked toward the door. Maureen craned her neck and noticed a very _naked_ Roger in their doorway.  
  
“But keep it down will, you?” Roger asked drowsily. “April’s trying to sleep and I’m getting a killer headache. K? Thanks.”  
  
Mark stared. And Maureen watched Mark stare as Roger turned to his room. Her hand briskly connected one more time with Mark’s ass.   
  
“Roger!” he shouted and spasmed, then collapsed in a thoroughly embarrassed heap on Maureen.  
  
Roger turned back quickly. “What?” he asked.  
  
Maureen bit her lip and let Mark bury his hot, red face in her neck. “Oh, nothing,” she grinned.   
  
Confusedly, Roger went back to his room and shut the door.   
  
After a moment, Mark whispered, “Maureen?”  
  
“Hmm?” she smiled.  
  
“I hate this year already.”  
  
She laughed. “I think it’s a pretty good start. Well, for you at least. I had to see Roger naked. Killed my orgasm.”  
  
Mark’s cheeks flushed and he crawled off her to the opposite end of the bed.   
  
“So,” she asked. “Is it just you or is it hot in here?”  
  
Mark frowned, unamused. “It’s hot!”  
  
Maureen laughed. “Yep, just you.”


	12. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark makes a disturbing discovery.

Some people are easily surprised. They might scream or freeze up or start hyperventilating. Their eyes might go wide and their skin might get covered in goosebumps. Their heart might even stop beating for a moment because of the terrifying, horrifying whatever-it-was that surprised them.   
  
Luckily, Mark was not one of those people. Because if he were the type of person who got surprised and shocked and just plain freaked out, he might have had a problem with this.   
  
This... _thing_. This thing that he found in his room.   
  
But, no. Mark was ok. He was cool and calm. He didn’t get freaked out. He didn’t start panicking. That’d be ridiculous. He might be a bit worried, but that was a completely different matter and not at all related to being surprised.   
  
The fact that Mark jumped ten feet in the air when he felt a hand on his shoulder was no indication whatsoever of him being freaked out.   
  
Roger gave him a strange look. “What wrong with you? Were you watching horror films again?”  
  
“No,” Mark said curtly and quickly tried to hide what he’d found.  
  
“What’s that?” Roger peered over Mark’s shoulder.   
  
“Nothing!”   
  
“I wanna see!” Roger grinned excitedly.  
  
“No! It’s nothing. So... you can’t see it.”  
  
“Ah, but if ‘it’ is in fact an it, then ‘it’ would still be in existence even if I couldn’t see ‘it,’ which would make it _not_ nothing.”  
  
Mark stared blankly at his roommate for a moment. “Have you been in Collins’ stash again?”  
  
“Just let me see the damn thing.”  
  
“No!” Mark asserted and went to put the thing away where he’d found it.   
  
Roger grabbed him by the shoulders and turned Mark toward him. “Please?” he smiled hopefully with big eyes.   
  
As disturbed as he might have been, Mark still had to admit this enthused and beseeching Roger was pretty…endearing. _Yes, endearing was a safe word._ Nevertheless, he gave Roger the same answer, “No, it’s nothing.”  
  
“I don’t believe you,” Roger’s green eyes glinted a challenge.   
  
Mark’s heart beat faster, but his eyes narrowed. “It’s. Nothing,” he insisted firmly.  
  
Grinning, Roger struck at Mark’s hands, grasping for what he was holding.   
  
“No!” Mark’s eyes went wide as he fought to keep possession. Since Roger was slightly larger than Mark – and much more infuriating (which _did_ have something to do with it) – the fight didn’t last long.   
  
Roger triumphantly jumped onto Mark and Maureen’s bed. After taking a moment to look at the trophy he’d won, Roger gazed down at Mark with a wicked, rather Maureen-like, smile on his face. “A dildo? Really, Mark, I didn’t think you had it in you. Which I guess you don’t at the moment seeing as I’m holding it.”  
  
Mark blushed bright red and swallowed hard. “It’s. Not. _Mine,_ ” he gritted.  
  
The smirk remained plastered on Roger’s face. “Is it Maureen’s then? Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to think about Maureen getting it on with plastic Cohen bits.”  
  
Flustered, Mark pulled at Roger’s legs, knocking his roommate on the bed. He wrestled the toy away and tossed it out of Roger’s reach.   
  
Roger laughed, wondering just how unglued Mark could get. “Are you just jealous? Can’t keep your woman satisfied with your inadequacies in bed?”   
  
Mark looked at him with dark eyes. In an instant, he crushed the guitarist to the bed, holding both of Roger’s hands above his head and wedging a leg between Roger’s thighs. Mark felt the nervous, excited, _aroused_ trembling emanate from the man pinned beneath him. He shifted his leg to rub against Roger’s groin, bending down to breathe in his mouth, “I don’t have ANY inadequacies.” Mark moved a little more and added, “In bed.”  
  
Staring with bright eyes, Roger exhaled softly, “None?”  
  
“None,” Mark confirmed. It took him a moment longer to realize just what exactly he was doing. And who he was doing it too. He watched soft, shallow breaths fall from Roger’s lips. He could feel the tense, expectant muscles, waiting for Mark to indulge them. Mark’s stomach clenched when he met the dark green eyes and thought of how he wanted nothing more than to claim Roger’s mouth with his own.   
  
Maureen’s intrusive yawn brought cold chills to Mark’s skin. “Are you boys done with your mine’s-bigger-than-yours yet? Because I don’t want to see Roger’s naked ass again. And I _really_ don’t want it on my bed.”  
  
Torn, Mark released his hold and crawled back to the head of the bed. Roger watched him closely for a moment before springing to life. He jumped off the bed and over to Maureen. “You know you want my ass,” he smirked and turned to wiggle it against her.   
  
“Yeah, right,” she spanked him. “Go to your room!”   
  
Maturely, Roger stuck his tongue out and sulked away. Maureen responded by sticking her own tongue out and then shutting her bedroom door. “Now,” she turned to Mark, who sat rather disenchanted against the wall. “What was that about?”  
  
Mark shrugged.   
  
“How helpful you are,” she set her bag on their dresser and noticed something on the floor. Picking up the dildo, she turned to Mark. “Why is this on the ground?”  
  
Swallowing awkwardly, Mark admitted, “Because I found it and Roger stole it to see what it was, but I made him give it back.”  
  
She rolled her eyes. “My hero.”  
  
“Maureen?” he asked nervously. “Do you need...? I mean do I not...? Are you...?”  
  
She giggled and crawled on the bed to him. “You keep me _very_ satisfied.”  
  
Mark felt the need to breathe a sigh of relief. “Then why the...you know?”  
  
“It’s not for me,” she grinned devilishly. “It’s for you.”  
  
Mark’s eyes widened. Now _that_ was something to get surprised about.


End file.
